


Under Grey Skies

by Caelum (zanarkand)



Series: Here's to the Fall [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Depersonalization, Depression, Dissociation, First Time, Fix-It, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Hurt Noctis Lucis Caelum, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medium Burn, Mental Health Issues, Not Canon Compliant, Panic Attacks, Poor Noct, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rimming, Spoilers, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, a bit of whump, sex to cope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-02-10 14:30:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 133,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12913863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanarkand/pseuds/Caelum
Summary: In the wake of saving Eos and bringing the dawn back, Noctis find himself coping badly with the aftermath of everything as he works to rebuild Insomnia, and somehow falls into a relationship with Ignis along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm back! Before anything else, if you haven't read the previous fic, _The Shadows Growing Tall_ , I really recommend it! You could probably do okay with this fic if you don't, but a few things get referenced here and there that might be confusing. If you have already read it, then welcome back! I said at the end of the last fic that I was going to wait to post this until I at least had the outline finished, but apparently I like to make a filthy liar out of myself. The chapter count I listed is only a guess and may change—but the outline's up to chapter 13, and I have a general summary for most of the rest of it, so we're good!
> 
> The other thing I said, though, about this being the most self-indulgent angst fest ever, that's still true. Take note of the tags and take care of yourself <3 Although some of the tags won't apply until later chapters, I've tagged everything up front that I'm aware of so hopefully there won't be any potentially triggering surprises.
> 
> As far as spoilers go, I'm doing my best to keep this fic **spoiler free** for any of the paid DLC (main game spoilers apply, obviously). Nothing from any of the character episodes is in here, and nothing from Comrades is in here either. I started writing this before Comrades was released anyways, so if you've played it, just toss that canon out the window ;D
> 
> For a posting schedule, I'm tentatively thinking every **Monday** , perhaps? As of today I have five chapters written, and I'd really like to be able to stay ahead in case of real life taking a sharp turn, or anything. I probably also won't post the week of Christmas.
> 
> Okay, enough rambling from me. Read on, and I hope you enjoy~

Insomnia is a mess.

Noct's known that, of course. He'd seen the destruction as the four of them had made their way to the Citadel on the way to face Ardyn one last time. And even if he hadn't seen it, he still would have known. It's been months, but he still remembers standing on the hill just beyond the bridge, watching the place burn. Still remembers the sight of all those MTs at the checkpoint into the city. Still remembers the horror in Iris' voice as she'd told him of what she'd seen while fleeing. 

He'd known that, and he'd known that taking the place back and rebuilding it wasn't going to be easy. But it's not until now, standing in the midst of a room so ruined he can't even recognise it, that the scope of what he's undertaking becomes real to him. 

The whole time travelling across Lucis, dealing with magitek soldiers and breaking into royal tombs and putting up with all the agony of the Crystal killing him, all that time Noct had told himself that it would be worth it, because he was going to take back his city and restore it to its former glory and finally bring _peace_ to his people. It had been what had kept him going many times, the thought of having Insomnia back once more. Even if he'd have to fix it up, it would be worth it, because he'd be _home_. 

Looking at it now, though, he isn't so sure. There's just so _much_ damage, not just to the Citadel but to entire sections of the city, and even merely thinking about all that will need to be done has Noct feeling hopeless. There's power to the city at least, which Noct has Ardyn to thank for—however grudgingly—but there's the sewage system to sort out, and internet and cell towers to get running again, he's going to have to figure out temporary housing while they work to repair and rebuild more permanent homes, plus there's the matter of food to deal with, and getting some kind of medical help going, not to mention some kind of security to protect against the beasts that are left roaming the city, and probably less than savoury people as well... 

It's going to take months, maybe even _years_ , to truly get everything sorted and built up again, and people are going to be looking to him to be their king in the meantime, but Noct isn't sure he'll be able to. He doesn't feel like much of a king right now. Yeah, he rid the world of the Starscourge, but at what cost? They spent ten years in darkness because he wasn't strong enough when he should have been. He almost _hadn't_ saved the world, because he'd fucked everything up. How can he be any good at running a kingdom? The last time he'd been in Insomnia before the fall, Ignis had still been carrying him through a lot of his day-to-day duties, because Noct had thought he'd have a few more years to learn before he had to take his father's place. He doesn't know nearly enough about how to really be a king. 

"Your Majesty?" 

Noct sighs, turning to face Ignis. "No titles, Ignis, please? Not yet." He hasn't truly earned it, for one. There hasn't been an official coronation for him, and likely won't be for some time. When he'd first defeated Ardyn, the title had felt right, but now that he's had time to think about it, it doesn't at all. He's not a king, not yet—maybe not ever. 

"Very well. Noct. I thought I would inform you that Cor has finally arrived. He's outside, talking to Gladio." 

Noct sighs again. "Thanks. I'll be there in a minute." 

Ignis nods, but hesitates to leave, hovering in what was once the doorway to the press room. He looks in Noct's direction for a moment before speaking, his words uncertain. "Is everything alright?" 

Noct automatically says, "Yeah," even though it's not. Now is probably not the time to get into it all anyway. 

Ignis approaches him, carefully reaching out a hand to find Noct's shoulder, which he then grasps. "It's been ten years, Noct, but I'd like to think I still know you well, and I don't need my eyesight to see that something is bothering you." 

Noct drops his eyes, both glad and annoyed that Ignis can still read him, even after all this time apart—though for him, it still feels like only a few weeks since he'd gone into the Crystal, and it's difficult to reconcile that with reality. But he doesn't want to think about that right now, he's not ready to face it, so he shoves it away to another part of his mind and focuses on giving Ignis a safe answer. "I'm worried about all that has to do be done," he says quietly. "Insomnia's pretty beat up in parts... it's going to take a lot to get it going again." 

"Yes," Ignis agrees. "It won't be easy. However, that does not mean it's impossible. If anyone can make it happen, Noct, it's you. You have exactly the kind of strength and determination that Insomnia is going to need in the coming months." 

Noct's not at all sure about that, but he's not willing to voice those doubts to Ignis right now. Possibly never. It's been ten years, after all, and maybe Ignis isn't willing to put up with his fears and insecurities anymore. He's not twenty now, no matter how much he still feels like it. "Yeah," he says instead. "We'll make it happen." 

"Indeed. Are you ready to see Cor?" 

Noct nods, forgetting that Ignis can no longer see such motions. He waits for Ignis to lead the way, but when Ignis says "Noct?" in a confused tone, he remembers, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment. "Sorry," he mumbles. "Yeah, let's go." 

Cor's alone in the plaza when he and Ignis approach, Gladio apparently already having taken his leave. "Your Majesty," Cor greets when Noct draws up beside him. Ignis nods in their rough direction, then heads back into the Citadel, having done his job of delivering Noct. 

Noct makes a face. It seems he's never going to be able to escape that title, no matter how much he doesn't deserve it yet. "Marshal," he returns, and is surprised when Cor lets out a dry laugh. 

"I haven't been a Marshal in many years," Cor says with a humourless grin. "Cor will do just fine." 

"As will Noctis," Noct returns. "I have yet to be crowned." 

Cor nods agreeably. "I was surprised to hear of your return, and more so to receive your message from Cindy." 

Noct shrugs uncomfortably. It's weird to him to think that so many people had been waiting so long for his return, still having faith that he'd come back some day. He can't imagine going ten years without knowing where any of his friends are, what's happening to them, if they'd ever come back. Losing Gladio that one time had been bad enough. "I plan to rebuild Insomnia," he says. "Your help would be invaluable, if you're interested." 

Cor looks at him, and it strikes Noct then how much the man has aged since he'd last seen him, giving his farewells as they'd boarded the boat for Altissia. There's more lines in his forehead and under his eyes, attesting to the stresses of living in a world of eternal night and daemons, and his short-cropped hair has streaks of silver throughout it now. His eyes look a lot more weary, though the stern kindness that Noct has known since he was a child is still shining from them. "I've spent the past ten years as a daemon hunter," Cor says. "I don't know how I could possibly be of help to you." 

Noct rolls his eyes. "Bullshit. You're exactly what I need. The daemons may be gone, but the usual pesky beasts aren't. And the Crownsguard will need to be formed again, eventually." 

"I'm old, Noctis." 

Noct gives him an incredulous look. "You're what, mid-forties?" 

Cor gives him a level look. "Fifty-five." 

Noct winces. Ten years. The Crystal. Right. Even seeing the physical evidence of Cor's aging, his brain still refuses to leap forward ten years to the present. It leaves him feeling adrift, and he hates it. "Yeah, well, you just said yourself you've been hunting daemons all this time. It's not like you're out of shape. You could easily defend the city, or train new recruits, or whatever. I'm sure the ways of the Crownsguard would come back to you soon enough." 

"I'm sure they would," Cor agrees. 

"Look, if you don't want to..." Noct starts, trailing off. He wants Cor here in Insomnia, taking up the mantle of Crownsguard once more, giving him some tiny illusion of his previous life. But ten years is a long time, and maybe Cor's found happiness with his new life. Noct doesn't want to take that from him. "I could use you," he says finally. "But the decision is yours." 

"I know several other hunters that would make good Crownsguard, with the proper training," Cor says eventually. "They have little else to do, now that the daemons are gone." 

Noct's feeling too down to allow himself to grin. But a hint of a smile ghosts across his face as he studies Cor. "Is that a yes, then?" he asks hopefully. 

Cor nods. "I can start getting in touch with them. They'll probably be willing to help with the rebuilding efforts, until we can get the Crownsguard off the ground again." 

"Great," Noct says, and means it. He's going to need all the help he can get. "We've been staying at Hammerhead for the past week, so there isn't much in the way of food and shelter here yet, but we'll look into getting something set up as soon as possible." 

"I'll let you know when I have any worthwhile information," Cor says, already pulling out his phone. 

"That still work?" 

"Not in Insomnia. But refugees from Insomnia to Lestallum maintained many of the cell towers around Lucis. I'll head to Hammerhead for the next day or two. I can see about getting some people out to get cell towers going here again as soon as possible. You'll want them." 

Noct nods. Having a quick means of communication with the outside world seems crucial. "Thanks." 

"Don't mention it." 

* * *

Later that afternoon finds Noct in the wing of the palace that was once considered servant's quarters hundreds of years ago, but had last been used to house some of the various staff whose jobs made it nearly impossible to live outside of the Citadel. He's using carefully directed lightning elemental magic to clear away the small bits of debris and rubble that litter the rooms, so that they can start making them livable. Earlier, he, Gladio, and Prompto had split up to search the Citadel for any areas that could be used as temporary housing for anyone coming to help with the rebuilding. So far, the servant quarters have been the best looking option—with a few dormitory style rooms large enough to fit many cots, some private single rooms as well, and multiple other connected rooms including a kitchen and dining area, plus several bathrooms that will be useful once they get the plumbing going again. All of the rooms are also relatively unscathed, with no parts of them exposed to the outside elements. The majority of the damage is the wear and tear of ten years in darkness, meaning that it won't take long to get them into shape again, which is something they'll need if they start getting people in soon to help with the rebuilding. 

Noct draws on the Crystal's power as he aims at the crumbling door currently in pieces on the floor, blasting it into thousands of tiny wooden shards with his magic. He no longer needs to use flasks to store and release his magic—his expanded core has made it possible to pull directly from it. It's weird, knowing that, but he has to admit it's a lot more convenient, though he'll probably still need to use flasks if he wants to share his magic with his friends. They could possibly pull directly from his core now, instead of just pulling the power necessary to activate the stored magic, but he'd have to teach them first and he's not sure how he could manage that, since he's not entirely sure how it works himself. 

More debris shatters, and he can't help but marvel over the fact that he isn't tired in the least, or feeling any pain. He's certainly aware of the Crystal, and of the sensation of his core being drawn on, but the piece of his life it takes for power is minuscule now. Whatever damage it had done before is nearly negligible, with the amount of power the Astrals had bestowed upon him—and with the pieces of their souls in him as well, he's sure. 

It weirds him out, when he really thinks about it. It doesn't feel like that long since Bahamut told him the truth of everything, and there hasn't been a lot of time since his waking back in Angelgard for him to process it. Once he'd defeated Ardyn and purged the Starscourge, the four of them had made their way back to Hammerhead, where Noct had spent most of the next three days sleeping and resolutely _not_ thinking about anything that had happened. The few days following that had been taken up with talking about Insomnia, and forming tentative plans on how to get the rebuilding efforts going. 

But right now, alone and doing mindless work, there's definitely time to think about it, and he still can't believe he actually has pieces of the _Astrals_ in his core. When he'd gotten their blessings and formed the covenants, he'd never suspected such a thing was happening, though looking back at it _now_ , he should have—he'd felt them, after all, joining with the Crystal and wrapping around his core, settling in him. 

Then again, there isn't really an established precedent for forging pacts with the Astrals—before him, it hadn't been done since the days of Solheim's existence, if he's remembering his ancient Lucian history class correctly. That had been one where he and Prompto often got in trouble for passing notes, though the teacher had been too afraid of his status to ever do much more than give him a stern glare of warning, and mention it to Ignis during parent teacher meetings. He'd still gotten high marks, but he hadn't always paid as close attention as he should have. 

Either way, it's understandable that he hadn't realised that he was literally joining with the Astrals. If he _had_ realised, he's not sure he still would have done it. It's a heavy sort of knowing. Even if it was unintentional, he's stolen a part of their powers for himself. Right now, he's in their good graces for saving the world, but when that fades and they no longer feel indebted to him... what's to say they won't be mad for it? How can he be sure he won't wind up like Ardyn, scorned by the gods and cast aside as if all that he'd suffered and sacrificed for them was worth nothing? 

The thought _terrifies_ him. Ardyn had been twisted by bitterness and hatred in the end, consumed with nothing but thoughts of revenge. Noct absolutely does not want to become someone like that, but he's scared he will—he can already feel seeds of bitterness buried deep down inside him, bitter at everything he's suffered, everything he's lost, when this all could have been prevented if the Astrals hadn't betrayed Ardyn. Because that's what it really comes down to, doesn't it? It's the one thing he's been thinking about since Ardyn lay gasping for breath beneath him on the cold streets of Insomnia. The Astrals had given Ardyn the power to heal the Starscourge, and when he'd done just that, they'd refused him the Afterlife, and cursed him to a life immortal, calling him corrupted. Noct still hates him, loathing him with every fibre of his being, but he can understand Ardyn's rage, his need for revenge. And that scares him, because understanding feels like one step away from becoming. 

Noct sighs. He doesn't like to think about all this. So much has changed in what feels like such a short time for him. Not just Insomnia, but all across Lucis. He hasn't even seen most of it, just Hammerhead and Galdin Quay, but they're so radically different that he imagines the rest of Lucis, and probably all of Eos, aren't any better. It's a still a shock, to recall the way the once bustling Galdin Quay resort had been abandoned and broken when he'd passed through it. The dock had rotted away in places, and the windows of the grand hotel rooms had all been shattered in. Support beams had fallen and busted everywhere, chairs and tables had been upended and scattered all over, old cafe menus had littered the floor... At the time he'd been mostly focused on surviving, but the sight of the place had still burned into his mind. Until Talcott had come along in his truck, Noct had wondered if the world had ended. 

His chest tightens with grief, and Noct pauses in his efforts. He's glad to have survived, glad to have escaped the fate that was meant to be awaiting him, but the cost is living in a world he no longer recognises. He mourns for the loss of the world he once knew—he's never going to get that world back, no matter how much he manages to restore Insomnia to its former glory. He could build it exactly as it was before, and it still would never be the same, because too much has changed. Too many lives have been lost, too many people have grown older, seen too many horrors, become different people... He's seen it in nearly everyone he's met since coming back. Cid, Cindy, Cor, Prompto, Gladio, Talcott, Takka... they're not the same people he knew before. 

It hurts. 

* * *

With nowhere better to sleep, the four of them end up camping out in a corner of the lobby of the Citadel for the night. They don't have a tent, just bedrolls that Gladio had brought from Hammerhead, and getting a fire going is a little tricky even with Noct's magic, but they've slept in worse places before, so it's not much of a hardship. 

If Noct's honest with himself, the hardship is in dealing with all the emotions that camping like this is evoking in him. It reminds him of all the times they've spent camping around Lucis, at whatever nearby haven they could find when night hit, and it's not so long ago for him, and it feels so familiar—but it's different too, in little ways, and those differences remind him it's been ten years. 

It fucks with his head. He feels like he's living in two separate realities, and he can't seem to make them merge in his mind. When he focuses on it, everything starts feeling distant, the world around him blurring into a dreamy haze, the edges soft and fuzzy. Only his friends remain in sharp focus, an odd contrast. Nothing feels real, leaving him disconnected, and feeling as if he's floating through space. He knows that he's sitting on a chair, but he can no longer feel it beneath him. When he moves his arm to touch the plate of half-eaten food on his lap, it feels like he's watching somebody else's arm extend out from his body. 

It's very disconcerting, and a little scary. He's not sure what's happening, or how to fix it, and he doesn't like it. He lowers his plate to the ground in front of him, and it's hard, because he can't _feel_ the ground, so it comes up faster than he expects, making his plate land with a jolt and rattling the fork against the plastic. Prompto glances up at him, his eyes checking to see that everything is okay, and Noct offers him a smile, or at least what he hopes is a smile, because he can't quite tell right now. 

It must be, though, because Prompto flashes him a grin and goes back to his conversation with Gladio. Noct's not sure what they're talking about, because their words are muted to him, as distant as his surroundings. He doesn't care to listen anyway. If this was a few months ago— _but it's not_ , his brain reminds him, _it's ten years, it's come and gone, ten years from one heartbeat to another_ —if this was _ten years_ ago, they'd all be talking and laughing with each other as they played King's Knight under the stars, all of them desperately wanting to forget for a couple of hours that the world is falling apart around them, and the bond between them would be as familiar and comfortable as breathing. 

Now, though—now they're fractured, that bond cracked by his absence and years of separation from each other, and they're stumbling around uncertainly as they try to mend it together again. It leaves _Noct_ fractured, and he feels uncomfortable, sitting here amongst his friends while the world falls away. He wants to speak up, to tell them that he's feeling _off_ , and he knows from experience that he shouldn't keep things from them, but— 

What would he even say? That he doesn't feel real, that he doesn't feel a part of the world right now? They'd think he was crazy, wouldn't they? 

Prompto and Gladio get up then, and begin slowly ambling around the lobby, inspecting the damage. It's surprisingly minimal—but then, maybe not. The fighting had broken out elsewhere, during the signing of the treaty, and no doubt bore the worst of the damage. Noct watches his friends. Prompto spends several minutes inspecting each painting on the wall, and it takes Noct several muddled moments to remember that Prompto's probably never had a chance to look at them close up until now. He's been to the Citadel before, of course, but there was always a purpose to each visit, and he never stuck around the lobby. There had been the field trip their class had taken here in elementary school, but Prompto had been stuck at the back of the group. 

To his left, Ignis scoots his chair closer, and for a moment it looks to Noct as if he's moving in slow-motion. Then he blinks, and Ignis is at normal speed again. He realises then that Ignis is saying something, but he's like Prompto and Gladio, the sound muted and far away, and he can't make it out. The feelings of unreality intensify, and Noct reaches out instinctively, just needing to feel _something_. 

Ignis startles when Noct's fingers wrap gently around his arm, but he doesn't pull away. 

"Sorry," Noct murmurs, but he doesn't pull away either. He can _feel_ Ignis, can feel the warmth of Ignis' skin beneath his fingers, and it's comforting and solid and _real_. It grounds him, chasing away some of those sensations of disconnection and floating, and sharpens the edges of the world a little more. 

"It's quite alright," Ignis says quietly, and Noct has to hold back his relieved breath at being able to hear again. "I simply wasn't expecting it." 

"Right." Noct nods, out of habit. "I still forget sometimes, that you can't see..." In his mind, Altissia is still only a couple months in the past, and the guilt he feels for it still lurks raw and fresh in his mind. 

"No need to feel guilty. I've long made my peace with it. Besides, I do have some light perception," Ignis says. 

"Light perception?" 

"I can tell whether it's light or dark. I can see vague shapes—mere shadows, really, but not enough to truly make anything out." 

"Oh." Noct expects the confirmation of that information to make him feel better, but instead he feels worse. How frustrating must it be, to almost-but-not-quite be able to see? Noct knows if it were him, he'd feel taunted by it. No matter what Ignis says, Noct still feels guilty for it. Everything had gone so wrong in Altissia because of him... 

"Is everything alright, Noct?" Ignis asks after a moment's silence. 

"Yeah," Noct says, but then he realises he's still holding Ignis' arm, and he feels his face flush hot in embarrassment. What must Ignis think... He's reluctant to let go, though. This is the most real he's managed to feel since the four of them set up their make-shift campsite for the night, and he doesn't want to lose that. 

"It's difficult, coming back to Insomnia after so much time has passed. Much has changed," Ignis says in a soft tone, reaching out with his free arm to place his hand lightly over Noct's. 

"Yeah," Noct says again, because he doesn't think he can get anything else out around the lump in his throat. How can Ignis still understand him so well, after it's been so long for him? Noct tightens his fingers on Ignis' arm, ever so slightly. 

"It will get easier, eventually," Ignis offers. Noct says nothing to that, and they sit there quietly while the flames of Noct's magic spark and crackle nearby, until eventually Prompto and Gladio wander back over, tired of their inspection. Gladio raises his eyebrows at their hands, but says nothing. Noct's surprised that Ignis isn't pulling away, but perhaps he's learned to be more comfortable with displaying physical comfort in front of others by now. There's so many little differences about his friends that he'll have to learn. 

"It's late," Gladio says, stretching his arms above his head. "I'm ready to hit the hay soon. Who wants first watch?" 

"I'll do it," Noct offers. There's no way he'll be able to sleep when he's feeling like this. Gladio nods, and they quickly set up shifts, with Noct promising to wake Prompto in two hours. There may not be daemons any longer, but there's still plenty else they need to keep an eye out for. 

He takes up position at a decent enough vantage point while the others settle themselves on their bed rolls. One by one they drop off to sleep, their soft breathing filling the room. Noct listens to it, feeling oddly soothed. When he's not looking at them, what year it is doesn't matter so much. Lying awake listening to his friends sleep is timeless. It's something he's done plenty of times throughout his life, well before they ever set off on their ill-fated road trip. As with touching Ignis, it makes him feel more grounded. He sits there silently for the next two hours as the world gradually slides back into focus, becoming real again, and when his phone vibrates with a silent alarm he goes to wake his best friend. 

"My turn?" Prompto mumbles, his words slurring with sleep. 

"Yeah." 

Prompto sits up, yawning and shaking his head a little. He pulls his phone to him, setting an alarm, and then takes up position, waving Noct away. Noct settles into his own bedroll, lying on his back, pillowing his arms beneath his head, staring up at the darkened ceiling of the lobby. This isn't how he'd ever imagined his first night back in Insomnia. It's so different from what he'd thought it would be, and he doesn't know how to feel about it. 

He should be happy, shouldn't he? Instead, he almost feels numb about it. He's been second-guessing himself and the decision to return all day, wondering if it's worth it to come back, to try and become a king he's not worthy of being. Is he just trying to cling on to the past when he should be moving forward into the future? Should he go to Lestallum, start a new life and fade into obscurity? 

All he's wanted since learning of Insomnia's attack is to take it back and make it his again. Now that he's doing it, everyone else seems happy about the decision. Why isn't he? It's what he wanted, and yet he wants to be anywhere but here right now. 

He knows he should be grateful that he's even _having_ a first night back in Insomnia. No matter how different it is, no matter how much things have changed, at least he's finally home. That's what he should be telling himself. But when he does, all he feels is empty. 

Maybe he just needs to believe in what Ignis had said earlier. Maybe it really will get easier eventually, as time goes on. That's the best Noct can hope for right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://promptos-barcode.tumblr.com/) @ promptos-barcode, or hit me up on discord @ promptography#6216 if you wish!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I'd love to know what you thought!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent this past week playing Stardew Valley instead of writing. I wrote a grand total of 227 words, and that was last night. Given that I wrote ~100K in two months though, I really just needed a break. So good thing I'm ahead, because it means I still have a chapter to upload ;D Enjoy!

The next few weeks pass surprisingly quickly, and Noct finds himself impressed by how much progress is made on restoring Insomnia. True to his word, Cor rounds up any willing hunters and former Crownsguard and Kingsglaive he can, and they prove to be invaluable in clearing away the mess of rubble. Word spreads, and workers also start pouring in from Lestallum, including some who are able to get the city's sewage system going. Noct hadn't really understood the details beyond the fact that there wasn't actually much wrong with it. He's just glad to have running water again. Cell towers also get restored, with large trucks from Lestallum carting in the needed materials. Being able to call and text people when he needs to makes life easier.

The city's still far from being properly inhabitable, but it's going better than he had expected it to, and he's overwhelmed by how much support people are willing to give him. He still doesn't really feel that he deserves it, considering it's his fault they all wound up in this mess in the first place. He wishes things could have happened differently, that none of this had happened at all, or that he could saved the world from the Starscourge without having to sacrifice Insomnia, or disappear for ten years. 

That hasn't been any easier to accept, either. He still can't wrap his head around the fact that it's 766 now, and not 756. It just feels too unreal to him. How could he have spent _that long_ trapped in the heart of the Crystal? What makes it worse is that he never had any true sense of the time passing. He'd gone in, talked to Bahamut, felt the worst pain imaginable, and then had woken up in darkness on Angelgard. If he hadn't run into Talcott, he wouldn't have known how long it had been until he'd met with his friends at Hammerhead and seen how they'd aged. 

Noct sighs, stepping into the elevator and pressing for the appropriate floor. Thinking of his friends brings a sharp ache to his chest. He hates to admit it, but in a way, he's _envious_ of them. They got to actually be aware of growing older, got to experience those ten years and all that came with them, got to feel time passing and be aware of being a year older on every birthday. Noct doesn't have any of that. He knows that technically, he's now thirty years old, but inside, he still feels like the twenty year old that disappeared into the Crystal in Gralea. His body's grown, but his mind hasn't, and he feels so much younger and less mature than his friends now. They've changed, but he hasn't at all. Even in just the month or so that he's been back, he can see the differences. 

Prompto has managed to gain a lot of confidence in himself—he's not making nearly as many self-deprecating jokes that hint to his insecurities, nor does he seem to use humour in general to cover negative feelings. He still jokes, but they're a lot more genuine and positive than Noct remembers them being. He's proud of his best friend, but at the same time, it's somewhat alienating, because he's still basing his actions on how the old Prompto would behave. 

Gladio's also changed in significant ways. He's a lot calmer than he used to be, and seems to have gotten better at dealing better with his emotions and doesn't always immediately resort to anger, even when he and Noct have disagreed on a few things since Noct's reappeared. He's glad to not be butting heads with Gladio quite so vehemently now, but like Prompto, he's not used to the new Gladio, and it's throwing him off kilter, making his disconnect with this new world ever wider. 

Only Ignis hasn't really seemed to change much—but then, he's always been mature for his age, so it's not too surprising. He's more self-conscious about his appearance now, which makes Noct's heart ache, but he's still practical and calm as always, still able to sense what Noct needs ands provides it at just the right moment, and he's still unfailingly loyal and completely devoted to Noct, no matter that it's his fault Ignis was blinded, his fault that Ignis had to spend years relearning how to _live_. 

He laughs bitterly, the sound echoing around the elevator. Why is he thinking about this? It's ridiculous. He's spent his whole life dreading the day he'd become king and put on the ring to take up the mantle of protecting Insomnia, because he knew how it would affect him, that he'd age faster than all of his friends and die well before him. And in some cruel twist of irony, he now feels that they've all aged faster than him, and thanks to the Astrals, he'll probably outlive every one of them. He's not sure that's any better than dying before them. 

The elevator lands, the doors sliding smoothly open a few seconds later, and Noct steps out, making his way down the hall. He wants to check on the training hall, specifically on the locker rooms, which they're clearing out both so they can get the Crownsguard started up again and so there will be more showers available for all the people that have shown up. 

When he steps into the first room, the main training room, vivid memories slam into him unexpectedly—Gladio training him as a teenager, Ignis and Gladio facing off, a tentative Prompto trying out a few basic moves. Noct blinks, forcibly shoving them away and shaking his head, and moves further in. 

The room is in surprisingly good shape, looking almost as it did the last time he was here, training with Gladio, a week or so before they'd left Insomnia. He can almost see himself and Gladio dancing gracefully around each other, dodging and swinging with ease, their movements familiar and well-practiced. The smell of sweat permeates the air around him, and the ringing clash of swords echoes in his ears, Gladio's distant voice teasingly taunting him, _Come on kid, you can do better than that! Or is too hard for your scrawny muscles to handle?_

"Excuse me," someone says, brushing by him, and Noct jerks, yanked abruptly back to the present. He stares around the room, wide-eyed, the past fading away and melting into the present, reminding him that he's not a teenager anymore—reminding him that version of Insomnia, and of that Gladio and that Noct, no longer exist. 

It's too much. He feels splintered, suddenly, like he's come untethered from the world and is hanging on by a tenuous connecting thread. The room suddenly feels engulfing, and he's tiny, reaching out into nothing, groping to feel something solid beneath his palm, but everything's so far away. He spins, his hand brushing against the doorway, but even though he can see himself touching it, it feels like a huge chasm between him and it, hundreds of metres of infinite distance, and it's _terrifying_. 

He wants Ignis. Any time he starts not feeling real, Ignis always makes it better. Ignis pulls him back into the moment, chases away all the dark thoughts in his mind. Noct doesn't really understand why, or how, but he doesn't question it, just seeks Ignis out when he needs to. 

He does so now, heading back to the elevator. Every step is difficult, because he can't feel the ground beneath his feet, and the hallway feels endless. But he gets there, mashing at the button for the main floor, and has to hold back a small scream when the elevator starts with a lurch, the sensation making him feel sick—with the weightless, non-existent way that he's feeling, for a moment it seemed as if the elevator was falling. 

He stumbles out into the lobby several minutes later, and Ignis is still where he'd left him, talking to a former Crownsguard member that Noct vaguely recognises but can't quite place. He thinks the woman might have driven him home from school a few times, when Ignis had been unavailable to. He can't remember her name. 

Noct tries to keep a respectful distance, to wait until Ignis is finished with his conversation before approaching, but it's hard to accurately judge when he's so small and everything's so big and nothing is close to him. His arm grazes against Ignis' back, and he stumbles back, mumbling out a quiet, "Sorry." 

"Please excuse me for a moment," Ignis says to the woman Noct no longer knows, and then turns around. "Noct?" 

"I didn't mean—Sorry, Specs. I was just—I can wait," Noct says awkwardly. He feels like an idiot. He doesn't know if Ignis has picked up on the fact that Noct deliberately seeks him out when something's wrong, but he tries not to let on that he's not okay regardless, because he doesn't know how to explain it. 

He knows, though, that he should say something. He should tell all of them, not just Ignis, because the last time he'd kept something to himself, he'd hurt them all deeply when the truth finally came out, and not telling them hadn't stopped them from worrying. He shouldn't really cause a repeat of that, but he still hasn't sorted everything out in his head enough to put it into words, still isn't entirely sure he's not going crazy. 

And he doesn't want any of them to think less of them, doesn't want _Ignis_ to think less of him, to think that maybe the Crystal messed him up, that he is crazy after all, that Noct can't be king and they should all just leave him to rot— 

The world slowly disappears, everything sinking below the horizon into nothing, and he's still untethered, floating away from it all, his head fuzzy and confused, dizzy with the sensations of not _being real_. Until suddenly there's a hand on his back, warm and solid and _tangible_ , rubbing gentle, steady circles, soothing him. Gradually the world comes back, the disconnected feeling shrinking as he grows proportionate to his surroundings again, and he reaches out, grabbing Ignis' arm, the feel of his flesh in Noct's hand further grounding him. "Thanks. I—I'm okay now," he says, and then looks around, realising they're not in the lobby anymore. Ignis must have led him to this room, but he has no recollection of it. 

Ignis stills, dropping his hand down. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asks, and his voice is all soft and concerned and sincere, and it makes Noct feel guilty, because no, no he doesn't want to talk about it, but he _should_. "Whatever is bothering you, I will not judge you for it," Ignis adds, and Noct closes his eyes, because underneath the fear, he knows Ignis is right. 

Every time in the past, when he'd finally tell Ignis something after being afraid, Ignis had never once given any indication that he'd thought less of Noct for it, or believed him crazy. Even when Noct had been sixteen and had been thinking about not being alive anymore, Ignis had never judged him, or reacted negatively. He'd simply talked to him softly, asking questions and reassuring Noct that he wasn't a burden and he _did_ matter, and once Noct had gotten on the new prescription, Ignis had checked in with him every so often to make sure that he was doing okay. 

Noct can probably tell Ignis now. He doesn't have to go into every little detail, or pour his heart out about how hard this has all been for him since coming back from the Crystal, or admit how guilty he feels over everything. He can say just enough to share the weight a little, and for Ignis to understand why Noct keeps seeking him out. 

"Noct?" Ignis asks when the silence stretches on too long, as Noct wrestles with what to tell him. 

Noct sighs, and realises he's still holding onto Ignis' arm. He lets go, hating the sense of loss it sparks. "I get... overwhelmed with everything sometimes," he says, keeping his voice low. He doesn't know who else is around, and he doesn't want anyone to overhear him. He doesn't need other people worrying about his sanity. "Times are confusing. It's hard to grasp that it's been ten years, you know? It doesn't feel like it for me, and sometimes I can't remember. When you're touching me, or I'm touching you, it makes me feel... I don't know, like I'm in the present? I feel more connected to the world." 

He can feel his face heating up as he explains, well aware how weird it sounds, but when he glances at Ignis, all he sees is worry, his forehead crinkling with it. "My apologies, Noct. I... had not realised that while you were gone, you were unaware of how much time had passed." 

Noct jerks his shoulders up in an aborted half-shrug as he remembers Ignis can't see the gesture. "It only felt like a few hours in the Crystal." 

"I see," Ignis murmurs. He looks thoughtful, but it saddens Noct, because it's not the same as it used to be. He misses the vibrancy that would light up Ignis' eyes while he was pondering something, the green of his irises shining brightly. Now Ignis' one eye is dull and clouded, the colour faded to a blueish-grey. 

"Any time you have need of me, please feel free to come to me, no matter what time it is," Ignis says. "You may also call me or text me, now that the cell towers are running again." 

Noct blinks. "You can text? How? I thought..." he trails off, reddening again, realising how rude his question is. Ignis shouldn't have to explain himself. 

Ignis smiles in his direction though, soft and warm, and it makes Noct's heart do this funny little flip that he doesn't understand. "I have a speech synthesiser app on my phone that allows me to send and receive messages. It will read text messages out loud for me; conversely, I can speak and have my messages translated into text. It's not perfect, but it gets the job done well enough. I can also choose to type and have each letter sounded out, though that's much more time consuming." 

"Wow, that's cool, Iggy," Noct says, and he means it, but he can't keep the sadness out of his voice, because it shouldn't have to be that way for Ignis. 

"I suppose it must not seem so long ago for you, Noct, but I've had ten years to adjust to being blind. As I have said before, I've made my peace with it, and I don't blame anyone for it. Please don't blame yourself, either. I would do everything over exactly the same if I had to," Ignis says. 

If Noct's not ready to talk about everything he's feeling now, he's _definitely_ not ready to talk about what happened back in Altissia. Not now, maybe not ever. He still has nightmares about that day, waking in a feverish sweat with a scream trapped in his throat, guilt paralysing and heavy in his chest. He's not sure he'll ever be able to not blame himself. But since he can't tell Ignis any of that, he simply says, "Okay," and leaves it at that. 

Ignis seems satisfied with the response, or perhaps he knows that he's not going to change Noct's mind that easily, but either way he seems willing enough to let the subject go, which is all Noct wants. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but it's nearing lunch time, is it not? Shall we go get some?" 

Noct pulls out his phone, glancing at it, and realises Ignis is right. "Yeah," he says. "Let's go." 

The small kitchen in the old servant quarters is bustling with people when they get there. Noct leads the way to the line. In the few weeks since they've been back in Insomnia, Prompto has done an amazing job taking charge of their food, figuring out the necessary rations and working with Lestallum to have the food trucked in from their greenhouses, as well as finding people willing to cook every day. A few former Crownsguard also guard the kitchen in shifts, both during the day and at night, so that no beast or man can steal any of it. 

When they get to the front of the line, they grab their meals and Noct checks off his and Ignis' name on the list, to signify that they've received their lunch for the day. When Prompto had first set up the system, several of the cooks had tried to tell Noct they didn't need to add his name, but he'd insisted. He wants his people to see that he's on their level, and isn't abusing his status. 

Trays in hand, they make their way over to the dining hall, grabbing a couple of quiet seats in the corner. Noct pokes at his sandwich with disinterest. It's not that he hates the food, and it's rationed heavily enough that he's glad to even have it, but his appetite has been tanking lately, and most days he has to force himself to eat. 

"Are you still feeling... unwell?" Ignis asks, sensing that Noct hasn't eaten anything yet. 

Noct sighs, picking up his sandwich and taking a small bite of it. He swallows it down before replying. "No, it's better," he says, appreciating that Ignis is doing his best to be discreet with his words. "Sorry." 

"No need to be," Ignis replies, and they eat quietly for a few minutes. 

Noct's halfway through his sandwich when Cor wanders in, sliding into a seat next to Ignis with his own tray of food. "Ignis," he greets. "Noctis." 

"Afternoon, Marshal," Ignis says, and Cor grimaces. 

"Ignis, please," he says. "It's still just Cor for now." 

"Apologies," Ignis murmurs, and he sounds polite enough, but they all know he'll still greet Cor with the title next time. 

"Hey Cor," Noct says once he finishes another bite, and ignores the face Ignis makes at his casual tone. He knows his advisor is big on propriety and titles and all that, but Insomnia doesn't officially have a monarchy again yet; it feels pointless to stand on ceremony. "What's up?" 

"I wished to inform you of the status of the Crownsguard, if you have a moment." 

"Shoot," Noct tells him. He's tempted to use the excuse to shove away his sandwich, but instead he forces himself to take another bite. 

"I've been quietly talking with the former Crownsguard members who have returned to Insomnia," Cor says, neatly cutting his sandwich in half. "The majority of them are eager to reform it, and have a purpose again. Several hunters—who I believe would be more than capable—are willing as well." 

Noct studies him as Cor pauses to take a bite of his sandwich. "You have enough to officially start it up?" he asks eventually. 

Cor nods. "It would be quite small at first," he admits, "but it would be enough to get some patrols going, at the very least." 

"I'm sure once word starts getting out, more people would come, and would be willing to join," Ignis says, pushing his now empty tray away from him. 

"Yes, I believe you're right. With your permission, Noctis, I'd like to go ahead and begin working out the details to get it off the ground. We've already had some people attacked by wild sabertusks at night, and there will only be more if we don't have some sort of defense." 

"Are they okay?" Noct asks with a frown. He hasn't received word of any attacks. 

Cor nods again. "It only just happened recently. They were hunters, so their injuries were minor, and our med people were able to patch them up." 

"We might not always be so lucky, however," Ignis says. 

"Yeah," Noct agrees. "It might be some unskilled citizen next time." He rubs at the back of his neck, thinking. "I know you'll need to get official procedures set up, and all the paperwork neatly in order, but go ahead and do what you can for now. You're the most senior member left"—he thinks with a pang of Clarus, who had taken great pride in managing the Citadel's defense force—"alongside Gladio, so I'm putting the two of you in charge." 

"It will be very bare-bones for now," Cor warns. "There likely won't be anything in the way of official weapons or uniforms or any other equipment for quite some time." 

"Yeah, that's fine," Noct says, waving a hand around, unconcerned. "I'm sure most of you have your own weapons for now, and there's probably still some old stuff left that's salvageable. Whatever you need, just take it. Ignis can probably even dig up some old requisition forms for you, if you wanna make it more official, he loves that stuff." 

"Yes, paperwork, that's my sole calling in life," Ignis says dryly. 

Noct rolls his eyes. "Well it certainly seems like it, with as many forms as you used to shove at me." 

"There are proper protocols to follow, Noct. I could not simply set them aside because you were too lazy to deal with them." 

"I know, I know, your world would collapse if I didn't dot every i and cross every t." 

Cor clears his throat, interrupting their bickering. "The forms would be useful, but there's no hurry. There's a lot of planning, and I'll have to get with Gladio." 

"I'll see what I can find for you," Ignis promises. 

"Keep me updated?" Noct asks. 

"Of course," Cor agrees. 

Noct rises, and grabs his now empty tray, as well as Ignis' tray, despite his friend's protests that he can manage it himself. "I know you can," he says. "I'm just being efficient." 

It's enough to quiet Ignis, who would never argue against efficiency, though he still doesn't look happy. "We shall see you later, Marshal," he finally says, standing as well. 

Cor sighs, but doesn't correct him this time, taking another bite of his food instead. 

"Bye Cor," Noct says, and gets a hand raised in acknowledgement. Noct heads off, quickly depositing the trays, and then takes his leave to get back to work. 

* * *

Noct's old rooms turn out to be worse than he ever could have imagined. He's been putting off checking them out since they came back to the Citadel, knowing they weren't likely to be in great shape, but standing in the middle of his old sitting room, looking around at all the wreckage—well, if he hadn't _known_ they were his rooms, he wouldn't recognise them now. 

He swallows around the painful lump in his throat. He's not sure he's ready for this. Even being in the ruins of his room is bringing up so many painful memories, and making his grasp of the present go slightly fuzzy. But he's here now, so he might as well. 

He starts with what was once a desk, absently-mindedly brushing off some debris as he picks through the stuff that had been left on top. Most of it's been ruined by time and mould, but it's nothing he was ever too attached to. Old textbooks, leftover school notes or assignments he'd been handed back. Nothing personal. He pulls open a drawer carefully, rifling through it. It's more books and papers mostly, in slightly better shape than the ones that had been left out. It's all stuff from high school, and nothing he needs to keep. He can easily trash it later. 

He shuts the drawer again, and wanders into his bedroom, over to the large walk-in closet. It's still stacked with all the boxes they'd brought over from his apartment, the night before they'd set out. He digs through some of the boxes on top, already knowing the stuff inside is going to be ruined, given the warped condition of the boxes. More old school books and papers, clothes he hasn't thought about in months ( _years_ , his brain whispers, but he ignores that), some of his comic book collection... it's all ruined. It's not surprising, given that the large window in his room is completely blown out, and parts of the wall are gone, exposing the room to the elements, but it does cause sharp pangs of sorrow to stab into his chest. He'd _liked_ that stuff, and had spent years collecting those comics. 

Trying not to think too hard about it, Noct sighs, pulling some of the boxes aside to get at a chest that's underneath. He doesn't remember packing this, so it must have been Ignis or Gladio. He undoes the latch and lifts the lid. Some of his nicer suits greet him, the ones that had been custom-tailored for him, often for various important royal events that his dad had always insisted he attend, no matter how much he protested. They're in plastic, and still in good shape, so he carefully sets them aside, and is pleased to find some of his game consoles underneath, packed in bubble wrap. He knows now this had to have been Ignis' doing, bless him. Gladio wouldn't have taken nearly as much care. Luckily the consoles still look to be in good shape too, and will probably work if Noct hooks them up. He closes the chest back up, making a mental note to come back for it later. 

He leaves the closet, glancing rapidly around the room. All he can think about is those last couple of days before the four of them had set out. At the time, packing everything in his apartment and bringing it to the Citadel, he'd thought he'd only be gone a week at most. He'd had no way of knowing that he wouldn't be seeing any of this stuff until now, that when he finally came back, it wouldn't be with Luna at his side as his new bride, but instead alone as a broken failure of a king, Luna long since dead. 

It still hurts, thinking about her death. He hadn't been able to save her. He couldn't do anything, except lay there in pain and watch as Ardyn stabbed her. She'd been fierce and beautiful even then, but it never should have happened. 

He misses her. He'd never been in love with her, had only been marrying her because of the treaty, but she'd been a dear friend to him for many years, and her support and approval of him had always meant a lot to him. And after Insomnia had fallen, she'd risked so much for him, trying to get the ring to him safe and sound, and dealing with the Astrals... She deserved something better than having to die because of him. 

Noct closes his eyes, a few tears trickling down his cheeks as grief grabs at his heart, pinching hard. It isn't fair. She should be here to see what he's done for the world, to see Tenebrae finally free from Niflheim's rule, and to take back her country the way he's taken back Insomnia. She'd be proud of him, he's sure, and when he found himself doubting, she'd simply encourage him in that strong, quiet way she'd always done when they were children. 

More tears roll down, and he can feel sobs building. He doesn't want to cry, though—he did so much of it in the first weeks after her death. He bites down on his lip, gnawing at it, the mild stinging pain a welcome distraction from the sharp ache of sorrow. Nothing has turned out like he thought it would. He'd been so hopeful for peace the morning they'd set out for Galdin Quay, so naive about it the last time he'd stood here. He never could have anticipated the true cost of it... 

Suddenly, being in this room feels too overwhelming. The fuzzy, distant feeling is worse, and he can't seem to stop the memories crowding in his head. 

Darting into the bathroom, he feels relief wash over him for a moment, until he glances into the mirror over the sink, catching sight of himself for the first time since that night in Hammerhead, when he'd emerged from the Crystal. It startles him, badly, because his first thought is to wonder who else came in the room with him, and he almost whirls around to check, until common sense kicks in and points out that it's _him_ in the mirror. It's disconcerting, because like last time, he still feels like he's looking at a stranger. 

He doesn't like it. It's too much, he can't handle it, doesn't want to deal with it, but he can't tear his eyes from his reflection, from the person in the mirror that's him and isn't at the same time, and tears spill over again as the world comes unhinged, his heart pounding hard in his chest as his stomach churns, sick with the sensations of feeling disconnected from everything, sick with feeling unreal. He bites down on his lip again, harder this time, until he's drawing blood and there's that old familiar metallic taste exploding on his tongue, but he still can't feel it, it isn't real, _he_ isn't real, and he can't stand it. 

He wants Ignis, wants to find him and grab onto him until the world comes back and he doesn't feel so scared, but he doesn't dare leave in such a state, and when he pulls out his phone he can't seem to make sense of the keyboard. None of the letters are in focus, and he can't feel the screen beneath his fingers, and it makes his body go tight with panic, his breathing speeding up as his fingers scrabble against his phone, just trying to _feel_. There's nothing still, so he sinks down to the floor and huddles up against the wall, crying and feeling pathetic. 

He doesn't know how long he sits there—when he's feeling like this, his sense of time seems to go by the wayside—but eventually he hears Prompto's voice calling for him, the sound of footsteps gradually getting closer. "Noct? You in here?" 

He wants to call to Prompto, to pretend he's okay so his best friend will go away and not see him like this, but his breathing's still rapid, small gasping breaths that burst out of him painfully, and he can't manage to get a word out. Then Prompto's there in the bathroom, dropping to his knees near Noct, reaching out a hand to him, but pulling it back before it can land because Noct flinches back violently. 

"Noct, hey, it's okay, buddy, just breathe deep. Look, slow and steady, like me." Prompto's murmuring to him, exaggerating his breathing, trying to get Noct to follow along, but Noct _can't_ , because he's ashamed, and Prompto isn't Prompto because Prompto doesn't look like this, but he is because Prompto sounds and acts like this, and it's just too fucking weird, it does his head in and he doesn't know when he is anymore. 

"Noct, come on man, you gotta breathe," Prompto says a couple of minutes later when Noct hasn't made any effort to calm down. "I know it's hard, panic attacks suck, but you can get out of it." 

Noct barely hears him. His mouth's dry and his chest hurts and he just wants Ignis. 

"Shit," Prompto finally mumbles. He's silent for a pause, and then speaks again, but it's not to Noct this time. "Big guy, hey," he says, and the urgency in his voice helps Noct register the words. "You and Iggy need to get to Noct's old rooms, like right now. He's having a panic attack, and he won't respond to me." 

Noct listens hopefully. Ignis is coming. Ignis will help him feel real again. 

Rapid footsteps sometime later alert him to his friends' arrivals, Ignis' voice curtly demanding, "Where is he?" and then Ignis is in front of him, his sightless eye staring at Noct's face. Noct reaches out instantly, both hands grabbing onto Ignis' hands, fingers tangling tightly together. 

"Alright, I've got you, Noct," Ignis says softly. "Come now, deep breaths, that's it." 

Noct obeys, finally working to calm his breathing, matching it to Ignis' breaths. His world narrows to just the two of them, everything else fading into the background, and though it still takes several minutes, it helps enough for the panic to eventually subside, and he sags back against the wall, feeling drained. 

"When am I?" he asks, voice coming out somewhat raspy. He needs some water. He licks at his lips, tasting the dried blood there. It's gross, but distracting from the strange sensation of not being able to feel himself as he licks. He's not panicking, but the feelings of unreality are still there. 

"The bathroom of your old suite," Ignis answers him, and Noct shakes his head, curling his fingers even tighter around Ignis'. 

"No," he says. " _When_." He hears Prompto and Gladio muttering in confusion to each other, obviously not sure what he's on about, but he ignores them. 

It takes Ignis a moment, but then he gets it, his face briefly twisting into something sad and pained. "766," he says. "You were in the Crystal for ten years." 

"Yeah," Noct says, nodding, remembering, Ignis' words making it real. "I'm not me anymore." 

"Nonsense," Ignis says, and Noct doesn't have the strength to argue with him. 

"'M tired," he says instead. 

"Let's get you to a bed somewhere quiet," Ignis tells him, and pulls him to his feet. Noct makes a face. He hates moving when he's like this. 

"Prompto, would you be willing to get Noct's dinner? We'll be in one of the private bedrooms." 

For a second, Noct's confused, but then he remembers that they'd kept a couple of the bedrooms in the servant's quarters as single ones, in case they were needed for any reason. It's likely what Ignis is referring to. 

"Sure thing!" Prompto runs off, eager to help. 

"You need me to do anything?" Gladio asks. He sounds worried but calm, which makes Noct glance up at him. He's still adjusting to the fact that Gladio no longer needs misplaced anger to deal with his fear. 

"Lead the way?" Ignis asks wryly. "I'm afraid I'm not as certain of the path as I once was." 

"No problem, Iggy," Gladio says, heading out of the bathroom. Ignis begins to follow, pulling Noct firmly against his side, letting go of one hand and wrapping an arm around his back. The other hand stays held in Noct's. 

Noct's surprised at first, because he's not so tired that he can't walk unassisted, but he quickly finds that the additional contact is grounding him more than the hand-holding did, solidifying the floor beneath his feet and bringing the world back, just a little. It's both relieving and maddening, because what the hell is he supposed to do if this keeps happening? He can't walk around permanently attached to Ignis all the time. 

When they finally get to the room, Prompto's already there, waiting with meals for all four of them, and it's only then that Noct remembers they were all supposed to have dinner together tonight. They pile on the small bed and eat quietly. Noct stays pressed up against Ignis' side, and he's grateful his other two friends don't comment on it, though he knows they must be curious. 

Prompto and Gladio chat some with each other, Ignis chiming in with a comment here and there. Noct says nothing. He's still feeling a bit off, and the grief from earlier hasn't faded much. He misses Luna, and his dad, and the old Insomnia, and most of all he misses the ten years he lost and can never get back. 

When they're done eating, Noct says he's going to sleep, and the three of them get up to take their leave. Prompto lingers after Ignis and Gladio have gone, grabbing Noct's dishes to take back to the kitchen. "You gonna be okay?" he asks. "You wanna talk about it any?" 

No, Noct does _not_ want to talk about it any. "I'm fine," he says, bending down to pull off his shoes. "Just wanna sleep." 

"Okay." Prompto looks doubtful, but he doesn't press the issue. "If you change your mind, you know how to reach me." 

"Yeah. Thanks." He waits until Prompto leaves, shutting the door behind him, and then lays back and rolls over, burying his face into the pillow to stifle fresh sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to everyone who commented, bookmarked, and/or left kudos on the last chapter. I really appreciate them :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am posting this from out of town, woo~ I won't be posting a new chapter next Monday because of the holidays, and I also may not post one the Monday after because I'll still be out of town, but depending on when I get back home I may post it later in the week. Just wanted to give you guys a heads up.

The next couple of weeks turn out to be trying. Noct's friends are worried about him, sticking closer to him and trying not to let him be alone, and though Noct doesn't blame them in the least, it reminds him of the weeks before they'd found out the truth about the Crystal killing him, which in turn only makes it more difficult for him to stay connected with the world, and that of course makes them worry even more. It's a vicious cycle that he desperately wants out of, but can't find a way other than telling them the full truth—and as much as he keeps telling himself that he _should_ , he's just not ready to yet. Not even with Ignis, no matter how much he's always trusted him in the past.

It's not even really about trust, though—he's just not sure he has any _right_ to complain about how difficult he's finding things. _He_ isn't the one who spent ten years living in a daemon-infested world of darkness wondering if the king would ever come back and do his duty to save the world. _He_ isn't the one who sacrificed his vision and had to spend years learning to re-adjust. Compared to those things, his problems are nothing. Noct can't go whining to Ignis about them. So the world went on without him while he was safely ensconced in the Crystal. It was only ten years, and he should consider it _lucky_ that it was all in the blink of an eye for him. He just needs to learn to suck it up and stop being so pathetic, to stop making it into such a big deal when it really isn't. 

Noct sighs, scrubbing a tired hand over his now clean-shaven face. After his panic attack, he'd searched out a razor and shaved away every trace of facial hair he could find, hoping it would make him look more recognisable to himself. It hadn't, unfortunately, and he'd had several long moments of panic before he'd wrenched his eyes away, but he keeps shaving daily now anyways, liking the smooth feel, and taking care to focus his gaze in the mirror only on the parts he's running the razor over, and not his face in whole. He doesn't want to see himself, doesn't want to stare and wonder who that stranger is until he's dizzy with fear and confusion. 

The elevator dings, bringing Prompto and Ignis with it, and Noct raises a hand to them as they walk out into the lobby. 

"Noct, what's up, buddy?" Prompto asks with a smile. 

"You guys are going to Lestallum today, right?" 

"Yeah, food's gotten low, especially since we're still getting more people in to Insomnia every day." 

Noct nods. He's well aware of how their numbers keep growing. Ignis has started talking about reports, and paperwork, and wanting to keep track of the numbers, all things which Noct dreads. Right now, though, that's a worry for another day. "Is it alright if I go with you guys?" 

Prompto blinks, looking mildly surprised. "It's fine with me, if Iggy doesn't mind." 

"You are always welcome, Noct," Ignis says. "And it may do you some good, getting away from Insomnia for several hours." 

Noct looks down at the ground at that, not wanting to admit how right Ignis probably is. "I'm curious to see what Lestallum looks like now," he says by way of explanation, even though neither of his friends had asked. "I haven't seen it since coming back, and I'm sure it's changed." 

Of course, given how he's reacted to everything else that's changed, it may actually _not_ be such a good idea to go, but he wants to do it anyway. Insomnia has felt oddly stifling all morning, and while he doesn't feel disconnected yet, the world has felt a little distant. If he gets away from it, maybe the feelings won't get worse. And maybe because Lestallum isn't _his_ city, seeing how it's changed won't affect him so badly. Besides, he can't imagine the changes would be that extreme. 

"Oh yes, Lestallum has certainly changed," Ignis says, dragging Noct's mind back from his thoughts. 

Noct doesn't like the way Ignis says that. Perhaps the changes are that extreme. The thought makes him nervous. "Noticeably?" 

"You'd have to be blind not to notice them," Ignis says. 

Prompto snorts and rolls his eyes, well used to Ignis' jokes by now, but Noct can only wince. He's not sure he'll ever be comfortable with them. Not when it's his fault. "Right," he says. 

They take the truck that Cindy had given them when they'd left Hammerhead. Prompto drives, which makes Noct tense at first. Prompto had driven them to Insomnia, too, but Noct had slept through that. All he knows of Prompto's driving skills is those horrible days when they'd been teenagers and Noct had made the stupid decision to trust his best friend behind the wheel. Three narrowly avoided car crashes later, and there was good reason Ignis had always been the one to do their driving during their trip around Lucis. 

As they make their way out of Insomnia and through Leide, however, Noct's surprised to find that Prompto is actually pretty good at driving now. It's disconcerting, too, because it's just one more thing that's changed about his friend, one more thing that he missed getting to see. 

"So," Prompto says when they've been driving a while. "Lestallum's changed a lot in the last ten years." 

"Yeah?" Noct says, mostly just to be polite. He's not sure anymore that he wants to know. 

"It's a lot bigger now. Like, really big." 

Noct blinks, unable to picture it. It wasn't comparable to Insomnia, of course, but Lestallum had already seemed pretty big to him. It was the second biggest city in Lucis then, certainly. 

"When the darkness came, many of the smaller towns fell quickly to the daemons," Ignis explains. His voice is quiet and solemn, and even without details, Noct can picture the horror of it all too easily. He swallows, and listens as Ignis continues speaking. "With nowhere else to live, people started fleeing, flooding in to Lestallum, seeking safety and shelter, believing the city could give it to them." 

"Is that where you guys went?" Noct asks. 

"Yeah," Prompto says, and Noct hates how subdued his voice sounds. It reminds him of Prompto's confession of being from Niflheim, how broken and dull he'd sounded as he'd showed Noct the barcode. Noct hadn't cared one bit about his friend's origins, but he'd never wanted to see him so low. "There was nowhere else for us either, once you disappeared," Prompto adds. 

"It was the most logical place to go, at the time," Ignis says. "But it grew to be crowded quite fast. Every place to stay was filled in the first weeks, and the streets were soon overrun with people. Many were dying from daemon attacks, or the Starscourge that had infected them. Others perished simply because there wasn't enough food for everyone, or because they had given up on life." 

"I was kind of jealous of you, then, Iggy, that you didn't actually have to see them dying," Prompto admits with a sigh. 

"I was rather relieved myself," Ignis agrees. "Simply knowing that some of the dead were piled in the street was bad enough." 

Noct listens in growing horror, a sick feeling curdling in the pit of his stomach. He's known that it had to have been bad—seeing the ruins of Galdin Quay and the fortification of Hammerhead had attested to that—but he's never given much thought to exactly _how_ bad, or just what it must have been like in the first months after the sun failed to rise. Hearing it like this leaves him drowning in guilt. _He_ caused all of that, he brought it upon everyone by not being strong enough when he should have, and by screwing the prophecy up. If he'd had the ring from the start, maybe the world could have avoided ten years of pure hell. 

He knows better than to voice any of it though—they would try to tell him it's not his fault, and reassure him that he did his part. Noct knows it's not true, and he doesn't want to be coddled or comforted. Instead, he keeps silent, and listens as Ignis talks. 

"It did start getting better, of course. Most of the Hunters relocated to Lestallum, and they would go out in large groups with workers, looking to expand the city," Ignis says. "Giant floodlights were set up to help keep the daemons at bay. New housing was built, and several large greenhouses as well, in order to start addressing the food shortage. The city gradually adjusted to the new way of life, and as long as people stayed within, daemon attacks stopped being a problem for them." 

"Like I said, the city's really big now," Prompto tells him. 

Noct still can't picture it, or maybe he's just afraid to. He leans into Ignis, pressing slightly against his advisor's side, wanting to ensure he stays with the world. He looks past him, out the window, and realises they're passing through Longwythe—or what's left of it. The shack that used to be next to the diner is completely gone, stray pieces of debris the only evidence of its once existence. The diner itself is still standing, but all the windows are shattered in and it's obvious it's been long abandoned. The Kenny Crow statue lays tipped on its side on the rotting bench, and it sends a weird shiver down his spine to see it. Across the street, the Three Zs motel they'd spent so much time in is now in ruins, the roof collapsed in many places and holes scattered throughout the walls. It's painful to see, and he knows most of the rest of the world isn't going to look much better. It's going to take a lot to fix everything. 

Noct's quiet the rest of the ride, and his friends are too, perhaps lost in painful memories of their own. He stays against Ignis' side, grateful that his friend doesn't pull away—but then, Ignis has learned what it usually means for Noct nowadays when he's seeking physical contact, so he likely realises that Noct _needs_ it right now. 

At some point he dozes off, tired after a night of poor sleep. Some undetermined time later Ignis nudges him awake, murmuring, "We're there, Noct," to him. He sits up, blinking the sleep from his eyes, and slides out of the truck after Ignis. 

When he gets his first look of Lestallum, he thinks that Prompto's and Ignis' words of warning couldn't have prepared him for the shock of seeing just how different the city really is. The floodlights at almost every major intersection are the first thing he notices, even though they aren't currently powered. He can imagine how bright they must be though, and wonders how anyone in the city ever managed to sleep. Of course, if it was a choice between having trouble sleeping or dying, Noct supposes he'd pick the floodlights too. 

The next things that stand out are how much more _crowded_ the city is from the last time he was here, and how it now looks to sprawl endlessly on past the gas station that had previously been the outskirts of it. Ignis had said they'd expanded, but he'd failed to mention that it had doubled in size. 

Noct follows alongside his friends, looking uncomfortably at every new building they pass. He has to keep reminding himself that it's been _ten years_ , not a couple of months, and it's not that weird for the city to have changed so much. It's hard though, when he keeps remembering how the city looked last time he was here with Ignis and Prompto, when the three of them had confronted Ardyn. 

It's also weird how many people call out to Prompto and Ignis, clearly recognising them. He's just glad people don't recognise _him_ , though he knows that will start changing over the next several months as word gets out. 

The three of them work their way through the city, heading for some warehouse where Prompto had arranged to meet with the people supplying their food. It's a newer part of the city, one that Noct's never seen before, and nothing looks familiar to him. It's upsetting, and highly stressful, because he can't help but wonder if this is how his life is going to be from now on. Is every place he goes, every person he meets, every relic of his past, is it all going to be some painful reminder that nothing's as it was? Is he fated to find everything changed and unfamiliar now? He doesn't _want_ that. He just wants things to be as they were, or at the very least, to not have lost ten years of time before he could cure the Starscourge. After all he'd suffered, why couldn't he have been granted that one thing? 

The world starts to fade, and Noct struggles to hold on to it. Colours blur nauseatingly together as a sense of unreality washes over him, disconnecting him. He fights harder, curling his fingers into a fist, trying to focus on the feel of his own skin beneath his fingertips, to make himself feel _real_ , but instead the world feels even more fuzzy, and he starts to feel detached from himself. It's an odd sensation, feeling that he's outside his own body and watching it stand there seemingly calm while Prompto talks to some of the warehouse workers. 

He squeezes his fingers into a tighter fist, but it doesn't help. What Noct really wants is to reach out for Ignis, but he doesn't want other people to see him like this. Even if they don't recognise him _now_ , when word eventually gets out who he is and pictures start circulating in newspapers and magazines, the people here will look back and realise who they were with, and the last thing Noct—or Insomnia—needs is any kind of negative press, or people thinking he's crazy. 

"Thanks, Lexi. We'll be back later then!" Prompto says, and Noct hates how his best friend can sound so cheerful when Noct's whole world is coming apart, even though Prompto of course has no idea. "Around four?" 

Somehow, Noct manages to hold it together while Prompto finishes up the last of his arrangements, but when they step outside again, it all becomes too much. The day is suddenly much too bright, the sun shining harsh against his eyes, everything around him standing in sharp contrast and making him feel sick. 

When he takes a step, he feels like he's both floating and still watching himself from outside his body, and it's disorienting. All the buildings around him slide off into the far distance, while he shrinks down to nothing. 

As absurd as it sounds, he finds himself feeling like he doesn't exist anymore, and it's dizzyingly terrifying, inciting a strong sense of panic in him. He can feel his breathing doing its familiar speed up as his heart begins to pound in his chest, so fast that he's scared it'll explode. Prompto and Ignis are walking, heading off into the city, but Noct doesn't dare take another step, because he's too scared of what that might trigger. 

"Wait," he chokes out, and at first they keep walking—because of course they do, he doesn't exist now, he isn't real, so how could they hear him?—but then Prompto glances back, turning halfway as a frown overtakes his face. 

"Noct?" Prompto turns completely, and starts walking towards him, Ignis following. "You okay, buddy?" 

Noct's breathing is too choppy for him to speak now, but it doesn't matter, because Prompto reaches him, realising what's happening. "Shh, it's okay, Noct, come on," he says, and leads Noct over to a quieter corner of the alleyway. 

Between him and Ignis, they get the panic attack calmed fairly quickly—the fact that they're talking to him assures Noct that he must exist, at least—but everything else is still there, overwhelming him, and he can't stand it. He grabs at Ignis desperately, latching on to his shirt and burying his face into his advisor's chest. He doesn't care what either of them think right now, he just needs it all to _go away_. 

After a startled moment, Ignis hesitantly brings his arms up to wrap loosely around Noct, his movements somewhat stiff and uncertain. "You're alright, Noct," Ignis says softly. 

Noct simply clutches harder at Ignis' shirt and doesn't respond. He's not alright, this thing keeps happening and he doesn't understand it and he definitely doesn't _like_ it. 

"Maybe we should get a room at the Leville for now?" Prompto suggests. "Like the old days?" 

At that, Noct lifts his head, though he doesn't leave the safety of Ignis' arms. "No," he says, and the word comes out garbled, his throat scratchy and hoarse after hyperventilating. He clears it and tries again. "Please, not there. I need something not..." He trails off, reluctant to explain. If they go to the Leville, it will just remind him of previous times, and make it that much harder for him to reconnect with reality. 

"Not what?" Prompto asks. 

"Not attached to past memories, perhaps?" Ignis asks gently, and Noct buries his head again, nodding into Ignis' chest. 

"Oh." Prompto sounds sad at that, and there's also a new hint of worry that makes Noct feel ashamed. He wishes he could just get over things. 

"I'm sure there are plenty of cheap motels in the area that would rent us a room for a few hours," Ignis says. Noct likes the way Ignis' voice rumbles through his chest and against his head—it's soothing, and reminds him of when they were children and Ignis would hold him and comfort him after nightmares. Things had been much less complicated then. He misses it. 

Prompto nods. "Yeah, I know of one that's a few streets over. I used it a few times when—" He halts then, suddenly, and Noct can practically hear the blush in his voice. If it were any other moment, he'd tease Prompto about it relentlessly. "Well, I've stayed there a few times," he finally says. "It's a decent enough place." 

"Lead the way then," Ignis says, and Noct nearly cries when Ignis lets go of him. It takes him a long minute to let go of Ignis in return, and he sticks close as they walk, the world swimming weirdly with every step he takes. 

Everything's so hazy that it's easy enough to zone out, until he feels Ignis' hands on his shoulders, gently guiding him while Prompto directs, and he looks around to see they're in a nondescript motel room. He realises Ignis is trying to get him to the bed. "I can do it," he says, and he miscalculates a little, his sense of distance still off, but soon enough he's curled up on one side of the bed, Ignis stretched out beside him, his body pressing against Noct's. 

Even with that, the feelings don't fade enough to make him feel connected again, but he's so worn out emotionally that he still drops off to sleep not long after he closes his eyes. 

* * *

Prompto's gone when he wakes a few hours later, but Noct's relieved to find that Ignis is still beside him on the bed, reading a book he'd brought with him, presumably intended for the long car ride. It's fascinating to watch the way his fingers fly over the page, engrossed in the small bumps that represent words for him. He watches quietly for a while, not feeling the need to speak, until Ignis eventually senses his gaze and pauses. "Noct?" he asks quietly. "Are you awake?" 

"Yeah, sorry, I've just never seen you read since..." 

"Since I was blinded," Ignis says, his voice matter of fact. "There's no need to shy from it." 

"Yeah," Noct says, because he doesn't know what else to say. 

"I could teach you sometime, if you'd like to learn it." 

"What?" Noct blinks, not sure what Ignis is on about. 

"Braille," Ignis clarifies. "It's easy enough that even a blind man can pick it up." 

"Iggy..." Maybe they're simply his way of coping, but Noct really dislikes the jokes. They make too much guilt curdle into his stomach. He can't tell Ignis to stop though, not if it helps him. "Yeah, that could be interesting," he says instead, and then decides to change the subject. "Where's Prompto?" 

"Prompto has already left for Insomnia with the food. I felt it better not to wake you, so we shall be here a couple of days until he returns for us." 

Noct's not really sure how he feels about being stuck in Lestallum for the next two days, given what being in the city has already done to him, but he acknowledges that being back in Insomnia isn't much better. At least here he can hang out in the motel room and not have to worry about dealing with everything and everyone that needs him for something, or trip over more memories while clearing away debris. "Sounds good." 

"I was thinking to order in some food, if you're hungry?" Ignis asks. 

Noct hesitates. He's not, but he knows he needs to eat, and Ignis will simply quietly fret over him until he does. "Sure, whatever you want to get." Ignis opens his mouth, a smirk on his face, and Noct hastily amends, "Except vegetables. Get something meaty. The less healthy the better." 

Ignis sighs. "You're incorrigible." He's doing his best to sound put-upon, but Noct can still see the lingering grin in the corners of his mouth. 

When the food arrives, they eat quietly, neither of them feeling the need to say much. Noct's not feeling off anymore, not since he woke up, but he's still tired, and it's enough effort to concentrate on just eating. 

"If you're feeling up to it, I would like to talk," Ignis says eventually, when their food is gone. 

Noct's stomach flutters with anxiety. "About what?" he asks, even though he knows. He's been having panic attacks and these weird feelings for over a month now, and they're only getting worse. 

Ignis raises his eyebrows at him, and Noct can still imagine the look that used to accompany that action. "I am rather worried about you, Noct," he says bluntly. 

Noct sighs, leaning back against the headboard and drawing his knees up to his chest. "I'm sorry," he mutters. He feels bad. No matter what he does, he always winds up worrying his friends. 

"You mentioned having trouble with remembering that it's been ten years, but I fear there is much more you're not telling me," Ignis says, stretching out next to him again. "I can't help but recall the last time you kept things to yourself, when the Crystal nearly killed you." 

Noct tenses, guilt clawing harder at him. He wants to deny it, but he can't—he's made the comparison in his own head enough times. "I'm not dying," he says, trying to deflect. 

"No, I don't believe you're dying," Ignis agrees, a wry smile twisting his face. "But I do believe there is something serious going on with you, and that perhaps you've been having a hard time dealing with some things you haven't yet talked about." 

"I—" Noct doesn't really know what to say. He's having a hard time dealing with _everything_. It's overwhelming, and confusing to think about. He's not ready to try and put it into words for anyone else. 

"You said before that physical contact with me makes you feel more connected to the world. Can you explain that more?" Ignis asks him gently. 

Noct rubs nervously at his arm, absently biting at his lower lip. Even just thinking about it is enough to bring the feelings on, though they're much more muted. He feels like he owes it to Ignis to try, though, after all that Ignis has done for him, without ever questioning it before now. "It's... hard to explain," he says. "Sometimes the world stops feeling... real? It's different things, but I just don't feel like I'm connected to it, I touch things but I can't feel them, and everything gets really far away and... kind of fuzzy, like static on an old television? And then I start feeling like I'm not real... Today I felt like I was outside my body, watching it... It sounds crazy, Specs, I know, but I don't know how else to describe it." 

"I don't think it sounds crazy at all, actually," Ignis says softly. "Have you heard the term 'dissociation' before?" 

Noct shakes his head, and then remembers he needs to speak. "No. Or I guess, maybe at school or in movies, but I don't really know what it means." 

"In simple terms, it is a detachment from reality, your immediate surroundings, or your physical and emotional experiences," Ignis explains, and Noct has to smile a little at how comfortably Ignis falls back into his old lecture voice. "I believe what you are experiencing, Noct, is episodes of dissociation." 

"Great." Noct scoots closer to Ignis, leaning his head against Ignis' shoulder. He sighs when his friend puts an arm around him, reaching up to card fingers gently through his hair. It feels nice, and helps keep the disconnected feelings more at bay. "Why does it keep happening?" 

"I couldn't say for certain, but possibly these episodes are being triggered by your emotional distress." 

"Which means..." 

"Whatever things are upsetting you, such as having trouble with the fact that it has been ten years since you went into the Crystal, your mind gets too overwhelmed and stressed to handle it, and the distress triggers you into dissociating." Ignis moves his hand, trailing fingers lightly up and down Noct's arm instead. Noct's not even sure if he's aware of doing it, as the movements seem so aimless and absent-minded, but he doesn't want him to stop. 

"So how can I stop it?" he mumbles, closing his eyes as his exhaustion starts catching up with him again. It doesn't help that what Ignis is doing feels really nice, relaxing him enough to make him feel sleepy. 

Ignis sighs. "There is no easy cure. You'd have to work through the feelings that are triggering you, and get to a point where they stop being a trigger." 

"...You mean therapy," Noct says, opening his eyes once more as anxiety slides back down his throat and into his stomach again, a sick feeling settling into him. 

"Yes, and possibly medication. You would likely benefit from a combination of both." 

Noct's quiet, thinking about that. He doesn't like the idea—it makes him want to throw up, if he's honest with himself. His last experiences with medication were terrible, and he has no reason to believe they'd be any better this time. And _talking_ to someone? Noct can't even talk to his friends, or sort it out for himself. How is he supposed to tell a complete stranger all the confusing things he's feeling? 

Depression pulls at his chest then, weighing him down. If he can't talk to anyone, this dissociating thing is just going to keep happening, getting worse and worse, and maybe then he really will go crazy. And how can he be a king to his people if he's like this? He doesn't deserve to be, anyway, but since he has to be, he owes it to them to be the best king he can, and if he's detaching from reality then he's certainly not doing that. 

The room around him grows, everything sliding just a bit further away from him. He closes his eyes again, fumbling blindly for Ignis' hand, curling his fingers into it. "I don't want to," he says. 

There's a pause, and then Ignis tightens his fingers around Noct's, his other hand putting more pressure as he continues to rub Noct's arm. "Are you dissociating right now?" Ignis asks him. 

"Maybe," Noct says, and shifts so that he can curl his body completely into Ignis' side. It grounds him some, and they stay quietly like that until Noct finally falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thanks for the comments, kudos, and bookmarks last chapter! I love you guys <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, the holidays are finally over. And I'm finally back home (okay, I've been home for a week playing Okami, shhh) and back to writing and this fic, so at last, here's the next chapter. Enjoy all the angst! \o/

Noct finds himself not wanting to get out of bed the next morning. Part of it's because when he wakes, he finds himself tangled up with Ignis, and it's rather comfortable, but the other part is because getting up means facing the world, maybe even leaving the motel room, and just the _thought_ of that is exhausting, and terrifying.

He lays there for awhile, wondering absently at the fact that Ignis seems to genuinely still be asleep. Ignis has always been up with the sun, for as long as Noct has known him, and being blinded hadn't seemed to change that fact. But since it means that Noct can lay there, enjoying the warmth of Ignis' skin and the steady rise and fall of his chest against Noct's head, he's not going to complain. He stays there until bodily functions urge him up, and then he gently slides out of bed and stumbles into the bathroom to relieve himself. 

When he comes back out, Ignis is awake and sitting up, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair, but Noct climbs back into the bed anyway, curling into his friend. Ignis makes an incoherent, sleepy-sounding noise, and feels around with one hand until he finds Noct's head, absently petting it. Noct makes his own noise, one of contentment, and presses closer against Ignis, closing his eyes again. 

When he wakes next, he's alone in the bed, and the emptiness of it makes loneliness wash over him. He can hear the shower running in the bathroom, so he knows Ignis hasn't _left_ , but he misses the feel of Ignis' body next to his. He thinks about getting up finally, and maybe getting dressed, but it all seems like too much effort. He's so tired, and the more he lays there, the more his thoughts come crashing in and make him feel like it's not worth getting up. 

He feels so down. He doesn't want to have 'episodes of dissociation,' or whatever they are. He doesn't want to keep feeling all those terrible sensations, doesn't want to keep disconnecting when things get overwhelming, doesn't want to panic when his thoughts scare him too badly... Most of all, he definitely does _not_ want to talk about it. Not with Prompto, not with Gladio, not with Ignis, and certainly not with a stranger. He wishes he could be normal, and _happy_ , and not care so much about everything. He wants to shrug off the loss of those ten years like they're nothing. 

They _should_ be nothing. Noct thinks he ought to be happy—he's alive, and that's more than he thought he'd have, for awhile. Compared to being dead, losing ten years is barely a drop in the bucket. Why can't he be grateful for what he does still have, instead of obsessing over everything he's lost? 

Ignis comes out of the bathroom, still towelling his hair dry. "Good, you're awake," he says after a moment. 

Noct yawns, giving up on his idea of pretending to still be asleep and propping himself up on his elbows. "How can you tell?" he mumbles. 

"You're no longer snoring, for one," Ignis says, amused. 

"I don't snore," Noct says, affronted. 

"I beg to differ. You do, on occasion. I've shared enough tents and beds with you to know." 

"Ugh," Noct says, not having any sort of comeback. He watches as Ignis pulls the towel away, and realises he's not wearing his visor. He feels like he should look away, but he can't bring himself to. The only times he's seen Ignis without the visor has been when they're asleep, and the room has usually been too dark to see much. Of course, a lot of the scarring on that eye isn't covered by the visor, but it's still different not seeing his face framed with it. 

"I imagine it's not a very pretty sight," Ignis says, startling Noct from his gaze. His voice is quiet, and there's a hint of insecurity in his voice that tugs at Noct's heart. 

"Sorry," Noct mutters, feeling his face heat up. "I didn't mean to stare..." 

"I wasn't sure you were," Ignis admits. He heads back into the bathroom, and when he comes out again the towel is gone and the visor is back on his face. 

"They don't bother me," Noct says. "I don't think they're ugly, or anything... You don't have to wear the visor around me, if you don't want." 

Ignis is silent for a moment as he halts in the middle of the room, his shoulders tensing. "It bothers me," he says stiffly. 

Noct bites down on his lip, suddenly feeling as if he's navigating through a field of landmines. He can understand Ignis being bothered by the scars—Noct's bothered by the one on his back, and that's not even one that people can see. He hadn't meant to upset Ignis, though, and he's not sure what to say now to make it better. He swallows. "I'm sorry." 

Ignis sighs, and finishes crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed. "I know you meant well. Are you hungry?" he asks, an obvious attempt to change the subject. "There's a café a few streets over that serves an excellent breakfast." 

Noct moves his arms, shoving them beneath his pillow and resting his head on it again. "No," he says. 

"Is that a no to the café, or no to hunger?" 

"...No I don't want to go out." 

"Is there a particular reason?" 

Noct breathes out slowly, and buries his head into the pillow. He doesn't want to tell Ignis he's too depressed to leave the bed, that he just wants to hide away from the world and forget it all exists for a little while. Maybe he can blame it on yesterday. "Don't want yesterday to happen again," he finally says into the pillow, his voice muffled. If that doesn't work, maybe Ignis just won't be able to make out his words, and will leave it alone. 

Ignis seems to understand him though, unfortunately. "I will be right by your side," he says. "Perhaps think of it as facing your fears?" 

Noct groans, hoping his friend isn't going to push the issue. "I'm not ready." 

"Very well," Ignis merely says, and Noct lets out a relieved sigh. "Will you be alright if I go pick up some food for us, and bring it back?" 

"Yeah." Food isn't appealing still, but he'll eat it for Ignis, especially if his advisor is going to the trouble of picking it up himself rather than ordering in. "Pancakes? With blueberries?" 

Ignis smiles. "Your long-standing order. Of course." 

"Thanks." 

After Ignis has left, it doesn't take long for Noct's self-loathing thoughts to come creeping back in. He feels worthless and pathetic. He's not capable of any of this—of dealing with what's happening to him, or dealing with what he's lost, or being a good king and rebuilding Insomnia for everyone... He can't even handle walking around a city without falling apart. Can't handle seeing his own damn reflection in the mirror without going into a full-blown panic attack. Eventually he's going to be on television, and the internet, and he won't be able to avoid seeing himself. All it would take is for one person nearby to record him falling apart, and then the whole world would know the truth. 

Noct wonders what his dad would think, if he were alive and still here. Would he be proud of all that Noct's accomplished? He knows his friends would certainly tell him so, but Noct's not so sure. There's some things to be proud of, but more _not_ to be, and he thinks that maybe his dad would be _ashamed_. He's made so many stupid choices since Insomnia's fall, so many things that could have been avoided if he hadn't been so stubborn and proud. He'd thought about himself before his people, selfishly put himself first, and a truly good king never would have done so. 

He wants to do better, he's trying to make up for it, trying to give his people a home again, but instead he's making the same mistakes he made before—refusing to deal with things, not confiding in his friends, thinking about himself first. His dad couldn't possibly be proud of that. He'd be so disappointed in the king that Noct's become. As much as Noct misses him, in a way he's almost glad his dad isn't here, so that he doesn't have to see the failure his son's turned into. 

Tears trickle down his cheeks, wetting the pillow beneath him. He almost wishes he hadn't survived, even though the thought scares him. He never should have tried to take Insomnia back, at least. It's too much to bear. He's mad at himself for feeling so, but he doesn't care about any of it right now, about being king or rebuilding the city or even having saved the world. He just wants to actually _be_ twenty again, and for his friends to be ten years younger, so that he can actually experience the years he lost alongside them and not have to feel so far behind and out of place anymore. 

The sound of the keycard in the door alerts Noct to Ignis' return, and he quickly sits up, wiping at his face even though he knows Ignis won't be able to see that he was crying. 

"Blueberry pancakes, as requested," Ignis says with a smile as he approaches the bed, holding a styrofoam container out to him. Noct takes it with a murmured thanks, ignoring the fresh tears that drip down his face. Above all else, he doesn't deserve to have Ignis by his side, but he's glad his friend is there nonetheless. 

* * *

Ignis doesn't press Noct to go out into the city again, and they spend the rest of the day lounging around the room, Ignis stretched out on the bed reading his book while Noct dozes on and off, or messes around with some of the old games that are still installed on his phone. Noct feels a little bad, because he knows Ignis has never been one for being idle for long periods of time, but he's also glad Ignis is staying here in the motel with him instead of going out on his own. Even though he mentally feels like crap, it's kind of nice to be away from Insomnia and alone with Ignis. 

Even if he can't actually pinpoint why that is. It's confusing. He and Ignis have always been close, ever since they were children. Prompto has been his best friend since he was fifteen, but Ignis has been his oldest and dearest friend since pretty much always. Noct usually enjoyed spending time with him, provided Ignis wasn't trying to make him eat vegetables, or attend to royal duties he wanted to avoid, and though it's far less often he still does enjoy the time he has with him now, but the past few weeks have felt... different. 

Noct's not even sure how exactly. Most of their time spent with each other is grabbing a meal together, which isn't at all different, or with Ignis comforting Noct after an—an _episode_. That one maybe is a little different, but Ignis had comforted him as a child too, when Noct would have nightmares after Tenebrae, or would be upset about his accident. Just somehow, now that they're older, it feels changed, even though Noct can't put the changes into words. 

He likes it, though. He knows in a day or two Prompto will come back to take them back to Insomnia, but here, in this moment, he feels far removed from the world and his problems, shut away in this motel room, just him and Ignis as if they're the only two people on Eos. It's avoidance, an escape, and he _knows_ that, but right now—it just doesn't matter. 

The two of them wind up tangled in each other during the night again, and okay, _that's_ certainly something that has changed. They've shared a bed before, both as children and once they were grown, and Ignis has slept pressed up against him plenty of times, but never quite like _this_ , legs entwined with each other and one of Ignis' arms curled around Noct's waist, holding him close, while Noct's fingers clutch tightly at Ignis' shirt and his head burrows into Ignis' chest, Ignis' own head tucked against his. Noct blinks a little at how _intimate_ it feels, but it's nice too, he's never had this with anyone before, and he can't bring himself to be bothered by it. 

Later, when they're both properly awake and showered, wearing some spare clothes Ignis had picked up for them while out yesterday, Noct lets Ignis talk him into going out into the city. He's nervous about it, terrified of disconnecting— _dissociating_ —again, but Ignis leads him over into the older part of the city, the part he's familiar with, and though it's still a little unsettling, knowing he hasn't actually been here for ten years, this area hasn't changed too much, and it's enough to relax him, at least so that he doesn't panic or get confused about when he is. 

They stroll through the open air market first, and Noct actually smiles to see it. "I always liked this place," he remarks to Ignis. "I'm glad to see it hasn't changed much." 

"It's quite lovely," Ignis agrees. "Although some of the wares being sold may not be quite what you remember." 

Noct frowns, glancing at some of the stalls they're currently passing. He sees various knick-knacks, rows of those little Cactuar figurines Talcott is—used to be—maybe still is—so fond of, random pottery... it doesn't seem too different from the last time he can recall being here. "What do you mean?" 

"Over the years more of the stalls have been geared towards selling small weaponry, and any sort of survival gear, due to the increase in hunters, as well as people wishing to feel safe," Ignis says. "There was also a reduction in food stalls, since food became more scarce for some time, though perhaps that has changed again." 

"Oh." Noct looks around, and realises Ignis is right—once there was food being sold every three or fourth stalls, both grocery ingredients and ready-to-eat snacks, but now the only one he sees is several stalls down, offering meat and vegetable skewers. "You said the other day, about there not being enough food for everyone, but I didn't realise..." 

"It was not a pleasant time," Ignis says lightly, and Noct suspects Ignis is trying not to get too detailed so he doesn't set Noct off into another disconnect, but even though he's afraid of it, he finds himself needing to hear what it was like then, to try to understand more of what his friends experienced while he was in the Crystal. 

"It must have been tough," Noct probes, wondering how much Ignis is comfortable talking about. 

"It was easier for those of us who could be hunters, than those citizens who had no survival skills." 

Noct's quiet, trying to imagine it. It's hard when he has no sense of those ten years. They're just a giant blank canvas of nothing, and often even the canvas doesn't exist. Maybe if he has Ignis paint him a picture, they'll become more real for him, make it seem like those ten years actually happened, and weren't merely an instance of a single heartbeat for him. "What was it like, for you, after I disappeared?" he finally asks. "Why did you guys separate?" 

Ignis sighs, briefly closing his eye. "It wasn't easy. We came to Lestallum because we simply didn't know what else to do. Those first few months were hard. You were gone, Noct, and though we all kept faith that you'd come back, we had no way of knowing when. Being together was a painful reminder of your absence. Separating was easier." 

Noct swallows, hating to hear the pain in Ignis' voice. He should have been stronger. Maybe then so much of this could have been avoided. "I'm sorry," he says. 

"It's not your fault." 

"I should have been here." 

"You were stuck doing the Astrals' bidding," Ignis says, turning the corner as they reach the end of the row. "No one blames you." 

Noct knows that's true, but he also still thinks Ignis is wrong. Saying so will lead them into a circular conversation, however, so he moves on. "After you guys separated, what did you do?" 

"Gladio and Prompto went their separate ways to be hunters, but I spent a few months in Lestallum feeling sorry for myself," Ignis says. His tone is matter-of-fact, as if he's discussing the weather, but it makes Noct raise his eyebrows, understanding all that Ignis _isn't_ saying. Ignis isn't typically one to sit around and wallow in his feelings, preferring to work through things while still going about his daily life. Noct had seen proof enough of that after Altissia, when Ignis had stubbornly continued on with them despite his lack of vision. 

A woman stops abruptly in front of him, examining some wares at the stall to his left, and Noct dodges around her, giving a dirty look in her direction before responding to Ignis. "That doesn't seem like you." 

"Yes, well, I felt very adrift for a time. Having lost you, finding myself blinded and alone, I believed I had lost every sense of my identity. It took me awhile to overcome that." They reach the other end, coming up on the little outdoor café tucked away behind the bushes, and Ignis pauses. "Perhaps we could have an early lunch?" 

"Yeah, okay," Noct agrees. He's calm enough for the moment that the idea of food doesn't seem so terrible, regardless of his lack of appetite. He leads Ignis over to a table, and they wait until they've ordered their food before continuing their conversation. 

"To truly answer your question, Noct, once I pulled myself together I spent the next year learning how to live again. I learned Braille. I figured out how to navigate my way around places, and taught myself to cook without sight, and learned new ways to fight. Once I felt competent enough I began hunting daemons, both as a way to make some money and to provide me with a sense of purpose." Ignis stops talking as their food gets served, and takes a hearty bite of the stew he'd ordered. 

Noct gnaws absently on a piece of meat from the spicy skewers he'd got, thinking about Ignis having to learn all of those things over. He remembers his own days in Tenebrae, and after, in Insomnia again, slowly relearning to walk. How there were days when it seemed hopeless, and he'd hated that something that had once been natural and easy had become difficult, and such a source of frustration. How he'd often wanted to give up, or didn't see the point in trying when he kept failing. How many times it was only Ignis' gentle encouragement and understanding that motivated Noct into not giving up. 

Their experiences aren't the same, really, but he thinks he can understand, if only a little, some of what Ignis must have gone through, what he must have felt at times. It makes him respect and admire Ignis' strength all the more, because unlike Noct, Ignis probably didn't have anyone by his side, picking him back up when he fell to frustration. He wants to apologise again, because he _knows_ Ignis' suffering is all his fault, but he also knows Ignis will never accept the apology. "It must have been hard," he says instead; it's the best he can offer. 

"Perhaps, but well worth it." 

Noct holds back a sigh. He wonders if Ignis is really as okay with his disability as he says—it seems to Noct that he's always brushing it off as something he just has to live with. And yeah, it is, but it also feels to Noct sometimes that Ignis is trying too hard to seem unaffected by it. He's not sure it's his place or business to say so, though. 

They take a break from talking to eat, after that, and when they've paid and left they walk back through the market, cutting through the alley that leads to the power plant. "Talcott says the two of you explored ruins," Noct says, making a face as he steps over some garbage spilling out from a dumpster in the alleyway. 

"Yes, when he was fourteen we started talking about looking into old records to find out more about Ardyn, and that often involved trips into the ruins of Insomnia, or sometimes old tombs of previous kings." 

Noct halts when the power plant comes into view, causing Ignis to run into him. "Sorry," he mutters automatically, but his attention isn't really on his friend. 

"Is everything alright?" Ignis asks him, concern lacing his tone as he steps back. 

Noct doesn't answer him right away, staring at the power plant as a sense of detachment washes over him, and he struggles to suppress it back down. He doesn't want to feel like this again... "It's—It's bigger than—" Even though Ignis has just been telling him some of the things he'd done in the ten years Noct was missing, being surrounded by the old Lestallum has made Noct forget how long it's been—he'd fallen back into the past, he'd felt twenty years old again, and now the shock of seeing how the power plant has changed from what he'd expected is throwing him back into the unpleasant truth of the present, and his brain's panicking over it. 

Noct feels a hand brush against his lower back, and then Ignis' hand is slipping into his, squeezing firmly. It helps. Noct breathes out slowly, finally ripping his eyes away from the plant and letting them go unfocused. He's still feeling detached, but it's not getting any worse, it's simply _there_. 

They stay there, unmoving, while Noct focuses on his breathing and the feel of Ignis' hand in his, and the pressure of it, until eventually the sense of unreality fades, and he feels he's in the proper present again. "It's 766," he says. "The 25th of June." 

"Yes," Ignis murmurs, briefly tightening his hand. 

"I was in the Crystal for ten years." He doesn't know why, but hearing himself say it out loud helps him, forcing him to acknowledge the present and make it seem real. "I'm thirty years old." 

"Yes." 

"Can we go back to the motel now?" His voice is shaky—he's on the verge of tears, suddenly, even though he's feeling normal again, and he doesn't want to cry where anyone can come across him and witness it. He's also so done with this walk, and this city, and maybe even the world, at least for the next few hours. 

"Certainly," Ignis says softly, and tugs at Noct's hand, pulling him along as he starts to walk. When they hit a more crowded area of the city, Noct fully expects Ignis to let go of him, but instead Ignis clasps his hand tighter, twining their fingers together. Noct's heart skips a beat, his face heating up with a faint blush, but he's glad for the contact, and doesn't pull away. 

* * *

When Prompto shows up later in the afternoon, Noct's not ready to leave. He's not doing much other than staring at the ceiling as he lies on the bed, Ignis next to him, the two of them pressed close even though he'd stopped dissociating awhile ago. He simply likes the contact. 

The knock at the door makes Ignis get up, and a low whine escapes Noct before he can stop it. He can feel himself turning red, but thankfully Ignis doesn't remark on the noise as he lets Prompto in. 

"Hey, you guys ready to return home? How ya feeling, Noct?" Prompto asks with a smile as he steps in. 

Noct sits up, willing the heat to fade from his face. "Fine," he mutters. He hopes Prompto doesn't press for details. He feels ashamed, because Prompto is his best friend, but he's still not ready to open up to him about things. Maybe it's not fair, considering he's opened up to Ignis some, but, well. 

It's _easier_ with Ignis. He doesn't feel so afraid that Ignis is going to judge him harshly and stop being his friend, or leave him. Even though they've been friends for years, Noct's always scared that Prompto will leave if he finds out how bad off Noct gets in his head. Prompto has no obligation to duty or the Crown to stick with him, after all. And it's dumb, because he knows that Prompto has struggled with similar fears of Noct leaving him, so more than anyone Prompto is unlikely to abandon him—but he can't make the fear go away. 

"The truck's waiting on us, then," Prompto says, breaking into his thoughts. 

They gather up their meagre belongings and turn in their keycard, and then Noct stares out into the city as Prompto begins heading out of the motel. He bites down on his lower lip as his feet seem to freeze into place, his heartbeat increasing. "Ignis," he says, his voice low and urgent. 

Ignis pauses, transferring his spare outfit and his book to one hand, reaching out with the other. Noct takes it immediately, ignoring the odd look the desk clerk is giving him. "I'll be right by your side," Ignis murmurs, and Noct's legs unfreeze. He takes a step, and then another, Ignis stepping after him. 

They get to the truck without further incident, and Noct slides in the middle seat again, letting himself lean against Ignis. Not long after they pass through the tunnel leading to Lestallum, Noct falls asleep, emotionally worn out. He doesn't wake up until Ignis gently prods him, murmuring softly to him, and when he yawns and sits up he sees that they're back in Insomnia. 

His stomach clenches automatically with anxiety, but he ignores it, sliding out of the truck and following behind the others to the Citadel. Cor and Gladio are waiting on him in the lobby, and Noct stops to talk with them, hoping they've got good news. 

"I think we can officially consider the Crownsguard formed again," Gladio says with a grin. 

"Yeah?" Noct asks hopefully. With more people continuing to pour in, having a sufficient defense force has been something that's been weighing on Noct's mind, especially after those hunters had been attacked. Soon enough they'll start having civilians returning, and Noct doesn't want them to be unguarded. 

Cor nods. "We have a good core group formed, mostly former Crownsguard and hunters, and some of the old Kingsglaive as well, and we've got plans in place for new recruits, along with a training regimen worked out for both the current members and future ones." 

"Great," Noct says. He's relieved that there's experienced former members coming back, because it means Cor won't have to start from the ground up, and the city can start feeling that much safer as fast as possible. 

"We've already been doing patrolling shifts, and Iggy's gotten us all the paperwork so we can officially keep track of everybody," Gladio adds. He hesitates for a moment, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck with a large hand. "Look, I know as your Shield I'm supposed to be by your side, but right now I think I'm more useful out in the city, doing patrols and dealing with the numerous packs of voretooth and sabertusk—" 

Noct waves a hand around, interrupting him. "It's fine," he says. "Insomnia needs you more than I do at the moment." And it's easier when he's not around Gladio, as terrible as the thought makes him feel. He loves his friends, but Gladio and Prompto both feel too much like strangers to him still, remind him too much that everything's changed. He hates it, because he misses the ease and closeness the four of them used to have, misses all the time they used to spend together, but he doesn't know how to fix it. 

"It won't be like this forever," Cor says. "Once we're more stable, Gladio will be able to resume his rightful duties as your Shield." 

"Of course," Noct says, and once again ignores the new bolt of anxiety that sparks through him. It's ridiculous that he even feels this way. Gladio's still Gladio, even if he looks and acts more mature than he used to. His core personality hasn't changed though, and Noct needs to get over it. 

"I'll keep you updated, as always," Cor says, and Noct nods absently, dismissing him. 

"You feel up to some training?" Gladio asks, flinging an arm around Noct's shoulder, pulling him in close. "A friendly one-on-one spar, like we used to do?" 

Noct hesitates. He's still feeling depressed, lacking in energy and wanting to crawl in bed and not move for days, and there's a good chance that sparring with Gladio will make him forget when he is again, if it feels too much like his teen years. 

On the other hand, maybe spending time with Gladio will force him to accept the fact that his friend's older now, and not how Noct remembers him. And maybe physical exercise will help him, will provide him with a distraction from his thoughts if nothing else, and it will be good to get some in, to keep his skills from getting rusty, because he hasn't fought any since taking down Ardyn, nearly a month and a half ago. "Okay," he finally agrees. 

It doesn't take long for Noct to regret his decision. The fuzziness starts the moment he steps in the training hall, echoes of the past rushing through his head, old scenes playing out in front of him. He blinks, chasing away the ghosts of his memories, and heads to the middle of the room, taking up a familiar stance as he summons up one of his swords from the Armiger. 

Gladio calls his own weapon, taking up a ready stance opposite him, and after a quick countdown, they begin. The two of them move with ease, still knowing each other well, and able to predict the other's movements. Gladio takes the first swing, and Noct rolls into a dodge, immediately springing up and aiming for Gladio's right side, but his Shield is ready for him, spinning and raising his own sword to block the move. 

They fall into their old patterns, and Noct falls into the past, twenty again and doing his bi-weekly training with Gladio, keeping his skills sharp for the day he'll become king and be expected to defend Insomnia, should the need ever arise. A sword whistles by his side, the sharp edge nicking him, and Gladio's face comes into view, the long ponytail and scruffy beard and moustache and the new crinkles around his eyes all saying he's thirty-three now, not twenty-three, and the world flickers as Noct goes out of focus. 

"You okay?" Gladio calls, even as he swings again, and Noct meets him with his own sword, the clang as the blades clash ringing loudly in his ears. 

"Yeah," he says, and ignores the trickling feeling of blood running down into the waistband of his jeans. 

"Good, 'cause Iggy would have my head," Gladio says, laughing, and Noct smirks, imagining the lecture Ignis would deliver. It distracts him enough that Gladio's sword glances off his shoulder, and Noct winces, knowing that'll be a bruise tomorrow. It'll hurt during the council meeting Ignis will drag him to— 

Noct's blood runs cold even as he cuts the thought off in his mind. There is no council meeting, and hasn't been for ten years, he's not twenty anymore. Bad idea, this was a _bad idea_ — 

His sense of fuzziness grows, becoming disorienting, his surroundings shrinking as Noct floats, and suddenly he's not in his own body anymore, he's standing outside it, and when he looks to where he knows himself to be standing, he feels as if he's watching himself through a window. He can feel panic building, but he shoves it back down with all his might, and watches as his body sidesteps a moment too slow to avoid Gladio's attack, the sword slicing the same shoulder that got hit seconds ago. Pain blossoms, blood welling up and travelling in rivulets down his arm, and it's disconcerting to feel the pain when he didn't feel the hit. 

Gladio stops, chest heaving with exertion as he sends his sword back into the Armiger. "Shit, Noct, you alright?" 

Noct watches as his body returns his own sword to the Armiger, and then allows Gladio to lead it into the connecting locker room, where first aid supplies are kept. Noct follows them, and as soon as his body sits down on the bench, he slams back into himself, though he's far from fine. He's disconnected from the world again, everything fading away from him, further and further into the distance, and he knows that if he were to reach out, he wouldn't be able to touch any of it. 

Gladio pulls Noct's shirt off, using it to mop up some of the blood since it's already ruined, and then grabs the first aid kit out and begins to clean the wound. Noct sits there passively, allowing Gladio to manoeuvre him this way and that, because he's feeling terribly off and he's afraid that if he moves himself, he'll trigger even worse sensations. 

"You okay?" Gladio asks once he's finished, eyeing Noct in concern. 

Noct shrugs, and then winces with regret at the pain that flares. "Fine," he says. He wants Ignis, but Ignis has just spent two days tending to his episodes. 

"Bullshit," Gladio says, and Noct tenses, even though Gladio sounds calm, with no hint of anger in his voice. "It may have been ten years, but I still know you well enough to know better, Noct. And I know that Prompto left you and Iggy in Lestallum because you had a second panic attack." 

Noct says nothing. He doesn't know what to say, really. And he's scared—with something this serious, what if Gladio _does_ lose his temper again? The first time had been bad enough, but then the aftermath of Altissia almost tore them apart. Noct can't handle that again. Not a third time. 

"Listen," Gladio says slowly, as he begins to put the first aid supplies away. "I know that the last time you told us something important, I reacted poorly. And that after Ignis was blinded, and Luna killed, I was even worse to you. I don't have a good track record." He sighs, getting up to put the kit back where he got it, then sits down next to Noct, his large frame brushing against Noct's side. It's not Ignis, but the feel of someone else still helps some. The world inches just a little closer. 

"I've had ten years though, Noct," Gladio continues. "I've grown up more. And I spent the first two years of your disappearance deeply regretting my behaviour, and working on improving it so that when you finally came back, I wouldn't ever make the same mistake again. I know words aren't enough, but if you're willing to give me a chance, I promise I'll do better this time around." 

"...Being in the Crystal wasn't ten years for me," Noct finally says quietly. He's nervous, but he's already seen evidence of Gladio's changed behaviour, and he wants to give his friend a chance. He can't keep reacting to his friends as if it's still ten years in the past. 

"What do you mean?" Gladio sounds confused, but Noct doesn't look over at him. It's easier if he doesn't have to see him—he knows he's in the present, but it's not staring him right in the face, and that helps him accept it better. 

Noct sighs. "It only felt like I was in there for a few hours, at most. I didn't know it had been ten years until Talcott told me who he was." He rubs at the back of his neck then, and gives Gladio the same brief explanation he'd given Ignis, about how he mixes up past and present. He keeps it simple, and doesn't mention anything about the dissociation he keeps experiencing. For now, he prefers to keep that limited to only Ignis knowing. 

"Shit, Noct, that's gotta be really confusing. I'm sorry," Gladio says, and Noct's comforted by the sincerity in his friend's voice, relaxing when Gladio doesn't explode with anger. 

"Thanks." 

Gladio exhales, clapping a gentle hand on Noct's uninjured shoulder. "It still hasn't been that long since you've been back, yeah? It'll probably get easier as time goes on." 

"Yeah," Noct says, though he doesn't share Gladio's optimism in the least. Gladio takes his leave after that, and Noct decides a shower is in order, even though he's still feeling out of it. He gets up from the bench and takes careful steps towards the showers, hating how everything feels so far away. 

He passes by a full-length mirror on the wall, glancing at it automatically, not really thinking about it, but the moment his eyes land on his reflection, on his face, he freezes. His breath catches as he stares at the stranger looking back at him. _It's me_ , he tells himself, _it's me in the mirror, it's only me, it's not a stranger_ , but he has a hard time believing it. He doesn't recognise the face in the mirror, and after a long, wide-eyed moment, he closes his eyes, dizzy with the sight of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for all your kudos and comments and bookmarks, I appreciate them so much <3 Feel free to rant at me about how terrible I'm being to poor Noct XD


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot that it was Monday and I needed to post a new chapter. I got so caught up in writing a really difficult scene for chapter eight, whoops ;D

Noct bolts upright in bed with a rough gasp, feeling his whole body trembling. He wraps shaking arms around himself, hugging his frame tightly as he stares wild-eyed into the dark room, panting harshly, and tears start trickling down his cheeks as his nightmare begins to replay itself in his mind. He can feel grief grip his heart, making his chest ache with the force of it, and before he knows it he's sobbing, hard, his face rapidly becoming soaked as ugly noises rip out of him. He hunches over, his fingers digging painfully into his sides as images flash through his mind, of Insomnia, and the Citadel, burning, the flames licking away at everything, and his dad, fighting fiercely against faceless MTs, the parade of them endless.

He doesn't know how long he cries, but some distant part of his brain is aware enough to be glad that he'd taken over one of the private rooms in the last couple of weeks, so that he can break down in peace and not have to worry about anyone hearing or seeing him. He's had a lot of nightmares since coming out of the Crystal, and he's always had to bury his face in his pillow and stifle his sobs. It feels freeing to finally let go. 

By the time he finally stops, too exhausted to keep going, his eyes feel gritty and swollen, and his mouth is dry. He fumbles for the glass of water he keeps on the table beside the bed, swallowing some down, and then he scoots back down into a laying position, closing his eyes and trying to sleep once more. 

It doesn't work very well. His eyes ache, and he keeps seeing the remnants of his dream in his head. He still feels overwhelmed with grief for his dad, missing him and wishing that he could be here. Even though neither of them were able to spend as much time with each other as they would have liked, his dad had always been a solid and comforting presence in his life, someone that Noct knew he could depend on to be there for him when he really needed him. To not have that anymore feels like a giant hole has been ripped in his heart, leaving him empty and bereft. 

Loneliness washes over him then, and he finds himself wondering if Ignis is asleep. Ignis isn't his dad, but he's someone else that's always been there for Noct, and in the absence of his dad, he's the person that Noct most wants to be with right now. He pulls out his phone, lighting up the display, and sees that it's two in the morning. Ignis is most definitely asleep. 

His feelings are eating him up, though, the grief and loneliness swirling through him, grabbing at his heart and squeezing painfully, leaving him miserable and despondent. In the darkened room in the early hours of the morning, it feels endless, and he can't stand it. He doesn't want to be alone a second longer, doesn't want to deal with the hurt by himself. 

He swipes at his phone, squinting through blurry vision as more tears fill his eyes, and pulls up his messaging app. _Ignis?_ He can only hope the sound on Ignis' phone is on, and that it's loud enough to wake him. 

Several long minutes later, a reply finally comes. Ignis must be typing instead of using the speech app; his replies always take at least twice as long when he uses the keyboard himself. Noct wipes at his eyes, brushing away the tears, and reads the short message. _Yes? What's wrong?_

_I had a dream. A bad one_ , Noct sends back. He should probably just call Ignis, and save him the trouble of having to text, but Noct's not sure he can make his voice work right now. There's a painful lump of sorrow stuck in his throat. 

The reply this time takes even longer, but the words he reads make it worth the wait. _If you need to talk in person, you may come to my room. You won't be a bother to me._

Noct doesn't even take the seconds to type a response; he slides out of his bed and leaves the room, heading down the hall and around the corner to the one Ignis has claimed. He knocks briefly on the door as he opens it, so Ignis will know he's there, and then climbs into the bed next to him, pushing gently at Ignis until his advisor is on his side, and then Noct buries his face against Ignis' back, fingers clutching at the t-shirt he sleeps in. 

For several minutes, the only sound in the room is that of Noct's breathing, ragged gasps that aren't _quite_ sobs, as he struggles with his emotions, fighting against the need to break down a second time. Eventually he manages to get a hold of himself, calming enough to lay quietly, though he doesn't move away from Ignis. 

"Are you dissociating?" Ignis asks him then. His voice is barely above a whisper, and it takes Noct a moment to work out what he's being asked. 

"No," he mumbles to Ignis' back when he finally understands. He's surprised that he's not, honestly, but also glad, and he hopes it stays that way. 

"Would you like to talk about your dream?" 

He would, for once. Even though he knows it was just a dream, he needs the reassurance from someone else. "It was Insomnia," Noct says hoarsely. "The signing of the treaty." He pauses, seeing it again, and swallows hard. 

Beside him, Ignis makes a wordless noise of sympathy, encouraging him on. 

"In my dream, I was there. I was watching when they attacked. My dad was... he was fighting all these MTs, killing wave after wave of them, but they kept coming, and he was getting tired. I wanted to help him, but when I tried to summon up any of my weapons from the Armiger, it would hurt me, and I couldn't call them." Noct stops again, shuddering against Ignis' back with the phantom sensation of that pain—it had been akin to the pain he'd felt back when the Crystal was killing him, and using its powers came with a price. "I watched him die right in front of me, Ignis, and I couldn't do anything to help him, or stop it." 

The tears come again, and then Ignis is scooting away from him, the loss of contact wrenching a sob from him, but before he has time to feel hurt by it, Ignis is rolling over and reaching for him, pulling Noct against his chest and holding him tight, one hand tangling in his hair as his fingers run through it in an attempt to soothe. "It was a dream," Ignis says to him. "In reality, there was _nothing_ you could have done to save him. You had no way of knowing what would happen. His death was not your fault, Noct." 

"I miss him," Noct chokes out. 

"I know," Ignis says simply, and the sorrow in his voice nearly makes Noct come undone. 

They lay in silence for a while then, Ignis comforting him with touch while Noct cries soundlessly. "He would be proud of you, were he here to see all that you've accomplished," Ignis says eventually, when Noct's tears have tapered off from exhaustion and he's close to dozing off. 

Noct sighs out a shaky breath. "He wouldn't," he says, his half-asleep state and emotional distress making him more open than he otherwise might have been. "I fucked everything up. I don't deserve to be king. He'd know it." 

"You saved the world, Noct, and have been working hard to rebuild Insomnia. That makes you more than worthy of being king." 

Noct makes a distressed noise, wanting to refute it some more but not having the energy to get in to it all. His body's growing heavy, weighed down with the pull of sleep, and he can't keep his eyes open anymore. The last thing he hears is Ignis' soft voice murmuring that his dad loves him and would be proud no matter what, and then sleep finally takes him over. 

* * *

In something that's becoming all too familiar, Noct wakes in the morning to find himself comfortably entangled with Ignis. He murmurs in contentment, and presses even closer against Ignis' body, enjoying the warmth. The amused hum Ignis gives out lets Noct realise he's awake, but though he flushes, he doesn't move. "Morning," he mumbles. 

"Good morning," Ignis returns. "Are you willing to get up for the day?" 

"No," Noct whines, drawing the word out. "Too early. Comfy." 

Another amused snort sounds near his ear. "It's nearly eleven, Noct." 

"Mmm." Noct snuggles against Ignis some more, perfectly content to spend the rest of the day just like this. Then a thought occurs to him. "You stayed in bed this long?" 

"You appear to be a bad influence on me." 

"Good." 

Ignis sighs, affecting an aggravated air, but Noct can tell he isn't truly bothered. "Another half hour," Ignis says, and begins trailing his fingers lightly down Noct's side. It feels really good. Noct makes a noise that's meant to be agreement, and dozes off. 

When Noct next wakes, the first thing he notices is that he's hard. The second thing he notices is that said hardness is poking slightly into Ignis' stomach. Immediately he feels his face burning, and is glad Ignis can't see him, because he knows he must be red all over. He pulls away and sits up, trying to make it seem casual, and prays to the Six that Ignis is too polite to mention it—because he knows there's no way Ignis didn't feel it. 

"Ah, getting up this time, are we?" Ignis asks, and Noct mutters something incomprehensible and wonders if that's meant to be a subtle dick joke. With Ignis, it's sometimes hard to tell. 

He slips out of bed and heads into the bathroom to relieve himself, though it takes a few minutes to will his erection down enough to do so. Of all the most inconvenient times to wake up with morning wood... When he finally comes out of the bathroom several minutes later, Ignis is dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, facing his direction. "We're going for a walk today," he announces, and Noct blinks. 

"A walk? To where? And why?" Noct's confused. Taking a walk around Lestallum he can understand—there wasn't much else for them to do, and Ignis was probably getting stir crazy sitting around the motel room. But here, in Insomnia, where there's so much work to still be done, and Ignis no longer knows his way around as well he does Lestallum? It seems odd. 

"Indulge me, if you would," Ignis replies, and Noct hesitates uncertainly before agreeing. 

Half an hour later they're outside and wandering around without any seeming destination in mind. It's early July now, but the weather is nice for a walk. Hot, but not humid, and there's a light breeze every so often that keeps them from getting overheated. They stick to what sidewalks there are, Ignis trailing his fingers along every building they pass, and Noct wonders if that's his way of learning the routes somehow. Noct quietly points out any debris that's in the way of Ignis' path, and slowly learns to time his warnings so that Ignis can move around it without having to stop or slow down. 

As they get further into the city and away from the Citadel, Noct's surprised to see how many people there are about Insomnia—and not all of them look to be the hunters or Crownsguard that have come in to help rebuild. He's been aware that the number of people flooding in has been increasing, but he hasn't yet thought to question _who_ has been coming in. "Ignis, who are these people?" he asks in wonder, as they pass by a damaged restaurant he used to love as a teenager. 

"I believe some of Insomnia's former citizens have started returning," Ignis answers him, but before he can say anything else someone emerges from the building, bowing briefly to Noct. 

"Your Majesty," the man says, and Noct's uncomfortable with how choked up his voice is, "Thank you for bringing the light back to Eos. Thank you for giving us back our home." 

Noct puts a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing at it awkwardly. "I did what anyone in my position would do," he says. _And it wasn't even enough, you shouldn't be thanking me, you should be hating me_ , he wants to add, but knows better than to do so. Why is he the only one to see the truth of the situation? 

"I don't think most people would have the courage, or the strength," the man tells him, and Noct shifts at the candid words. "But you did. Thank you." 

"You're welcome," Noct says after a moment's hesitation, because even though it doesn't feel right, he's not sure what else he _can_ say to that. 

"He's right," Ignis says once they've resumed their walk and made their way further down, the man having taken his leave. "Many people would not have selflessly sacrificed so much for the world the way you did." 

Noct bites at his lip, worrying at it. "I'm not sure I was given a choice in the matter." 

"There are always choices, Noct," Ignis says. He pauses on the sidewalk, fingers touching the crumbled ruins of a building, looking in the direction he believes Noct to be—and he's not wrong. His eye is clouded, the other permanently closed and scarred, but Noct doesn't need them to be whole to see how serious Ignis is as he speaks. "Because of yours, people can return to the city they hold dear, and can reclaim their old businesses and old homes. They're here doing what they can to make things livable again, to re-open their businesses and resume their lives because of _you_ , because you chose to face your destiny and do what the Astrals wished of you, instead of running away and making a life for yourself." 

Noct feels something tighten in his chest at Ignis' words. Ignis is making him out to sound so much more noble than he is—like he chose to do all that deliberately, like he purposely gave up everything for the world without any selfish reasoning behind it. "It wasn't like that, Iggy," he says, and his tone is a lot more desperate than he means it to be, but he needs Ignis to understand, to see that he's not the great person everyone seems to think he is. "I wasn't doing it because of _destiny_ , or because I was the Chosen King, or anything. I just—I wanted Insomnia back, I wanted things _right_ again. I kept on going because I didn't know what else to do." 

An older woman passes them on the sidewalk, halting and doubling back when she seems to realise just who it is she's passed. "Your Majesty, I wanted to thank you," she says, looking at him with tear-filled eyes. "I never thought to see Insomnia again in my lifetime." 

"You're welcome," Noct repeats, feeling helpless and lost. She bobs a quick curtsy to him, and hurries off. Noct watches her go for a moment, and then begins to walk again, Ignis following after a hesitant few seconds. Many people continue to wave and greet Noct, several stopping to thank him, and it continues to confuse him and leave him uncomfortable. 

He doesn't understand why Ignis brought him on this walk. He's in an odd mix of emotions—he's happy to see the progress Insomnia has made, and that so many people are genuinely thankful to be back, but it makes him sad that it ever got to this point in the first place, that his city was so wrecked and abandoned that people thought they'd never come back to it. He's guilt-ridden with all the thanks he's getting, because he doesn't feel that he deserves it. He's worried, because there's so many more people here than he'd realised—he'd had reports, but hearing rough estimates of numbers and seeing what that actually translates to are two different things, and he's worried about having enough food and shelter for everyone, and that some people seem to be living out here in the city, in their old homes, and Noct imagines they probably aren't very safe, or even truly livable yet, and even if he doesn't deserve his people, he doesn't want anything bad to happen to them. 

"Why aren't we housing all of these people in the Citadel?" Noct asks when they pass a group of people camped out in the shell of what was once a nice complex of apartments and townhouses. "Is there room? How are we meant to feed them all?" 

"They were offered shelter in the Citadel when they first arrived, but they turned it down," Ignis explains, stepping carefully over some shattered bricks at Noct's warning. "From my understanding, the Crownsguard is patrolling as best as they can to keep everyone safe." 

"And food?" 

"Prompto has been working on the issue of that since our trip to Lestallum a couple of weeks ago. He and several of the people who run the greenhouses in Lestallum have made multiple trips to some of the old farmlands in the outskirts of the city. They've found that much of the soil is quite rich, and more than suitable for growing food, so they've been working to get a farm started, although it will take some time to get it up and running, of course." 

Noct frowns. "Why wasn't I made aware of any of this?" 

Ignis is silent at first, and Noct waves a hand absently as a young woman calls out a greeting to him, waiting for his advisor's reply. "With everything else going on, I wasn't sure if you were ready to deal with such matters," Ignis finally says reluctantly. 

At that, it's Noct's turn to be silent. Ignis isn't really wrong, exactly, though he still would have liked to know. "Why did you want to come on this walk?" he asks abruptly, changing the subject. 

Ignis reaches out with his free hand, seeking, and Noct takes it, clasping it loosely. "I wished for you to see," Ignis tells him, tightening his fingers around Noct's hand. "You've done so much good, Noct, and you deserve to be king. Perhaps things didn't turn out how any of us would have wished, but that isn't your fault. You did the best you were able with a terrible situation, and you saved Eos, and Insomnia. His Majesty would have been proud of you, and would have found you to be well worthy of being Insomnia's king." 

There's so much that Noct wants to say to that—to refute it, to list all the ways that Ignis is wrong, to prove to his advisor how unworthy he really is. He doesn't though, because deep down he desperately wants Ignis to be right, and even though he's not, if Noct can just cling to the lie for a little while, can just somehow make himself believe that he _is_ deserving of being king, then maybe—maybe everything will have a chance of turning out okay. "If I'm a worthwhile king, shouldn't I know things like Prompto setting up farms, and that we've been getting former citizens returning?" he finally asks in lieu of a direct response, so he doesn't actually have to address Ignis' well-meaning words. 

"My apologies," Ignis says quietly. "You're right, of course. I should have been keeping you abreast of developments. I'll start preparing reports for you in the future." 

Noct makes a face, holding back a groan. He knows Ignis has seen right through him, but to go back on his words now would mean having an actual conversation about Noct's worthiness of being king, and he's had enough of that already. "Great," he simply says instead. 

Thankfully, Ignis seems content to drop the subject after that, and the rest of their walk is pleasant, though they still get stopped by grateful citizens every now and then. Noct feels uncomfortable every time, but he's no longer sure if it's because he doesn't feel worthy of the thanks, or because Ignis has yet to let go of his hand, and he can't imagine what the people seeing it must think. It's a little disconcerting, and makes him realise that Ignis has changed more in the ten years than he'd first thought, given that Ignis used to have a hard time being affectionate to him even just around Gladio and Prompto. Noct wonders at what caused the change, but he's not about to call attention to it by asking. For now, he's happy enough to just enjoy it. 

* * *

Over the next couple of weeks, Noct finds that he's sorely regretting agreeing to the decision to allow Ignis to do paperwork again. Once given the approval, Ignis has taken to it with a fierce vengeance, as if he's making up for all ten missed years worth of forms and reports. 

Of course, it's not quite the same as it would have been. Ignis is blind, after all, and can no longer read and write in the same manner that he used to. Machines that Noct's not familiar with are brought in from Lestallum to help him, and new computers with software made specifically for the blind. Ignis is thrilled with it, but Noct hates it. It shouldn't be necessary. Ignis never should have suffered such a loss. He won't say anything though. Ignis has accepted it, and hopefully in time Noct will too. He's happy enough that at least technology for Ignis exists, because he'd be lost in all this without his advisor's help. 

Once Ignis starts tackling the paperwork, Noct realises they're going to need a place to work. It's with some trepidation that he finally settles on taking over his dad's old office, with Ignis taking the connected office next to it that used to belong to Clarus. By rights, it ought to be Gladio's, but they both know they'll never get Gladio to take an office and deal with paperwork, even if he is Noct's Shield and meant to be by his side. 

Noct's not sure he wants Gladio by his side right now, anyway. It's still so hard, being around him and Prompto—Noct's taken to avoiding them when possible. And Gladio's currently happy enough to be out patrolling with the Crownsguard and helping Cor manage things. Ignis is the one always by Noct's side for now, so it seems fitting that he gets Clarus' old office. 

It's difficult at first, however, being in a room that his dad once spent so much time in. There are small reminders of him everywhere—a now moth eaten jacket still draped over a chair in one corner of the room, a few pictures of his dad with young versions of Noct propped up on various shelves around the room, empty cans and torn wrappers of his dad's favourite drinks and snacks still sitting in the trash can beside the desk. 

The first time he steps in the office, he's overwhelmed with the sensation of stepping into the past, memories flying into his head of all the times when he was younger and would come into the office to wait on his dad to finish up some important work so they could go do whatever plans they'd made for the day. He freezes as the world goes out of focus, the ground beneath him falling away. Behind him, Ignis bumps into him, not expecting the abrupt stop. Luckily he realises quickly what's happening, and is able to help Noct through it. 

After that, they work to pack away his dad's things, and even bring in a few of Noct's own trinkets, making the office feel more like his, and then it's not so bad. He still disconnects from time to time, when he lets himself get caught up in a memory, or runs across something of his dad's that they'd missed, but Ignis is almost always there to pick up on it and try to ground Noct again. 

Roughly two weeks after their walk around the city, Noct's sitting in his office at the desk, the late morning sun shining in on him as he looks over a report Ignis has handed him. After seeing how many people had been about, Noct had requested of Cor to have the Crownsguard try to do an unofficial census of sorts, to at least get a rough estimate of how many people might be back in Insomnia, and to also try and categorise them as former hunters, Crownsguard, Kingsglaive, or citizens. Seeing the numbers now, they're much higher than he'd really expected. 

"This is nearly seven hundred people," he says, lowering the report in a daze. "Ignis, how do we have this many people in just _two_ months? It was supposed to be only a couple of hundred people to help build and keep things running!" 

Ignis sighs, feeling for the report and taking it over to the filing cabinet once he's found it. They've taken the time to reorganise everything into an easy system for Ignis, using a machine to print out labels in braille, and Ignis is able to slide the report into the appropriate spot easily. "People are both eager to return to their home and eager to help rebuild it," he says, turning back to face Noct. "It's not surprising that once word got out, the numbers grew quickly." 

"How are we supposed to feed them all? Prompto's farm is nowhere near ready yet. Lestallum's giving us food still, but is it enough?" 

"For now, most of the citizens coming in are leaving from Lestallum, so the city is still more than happy to share their food with us. They'll likely have a small surplus of it before long, if they don't already." 

Noct hums in acknowledgement. "I wonder what they'll want in exchange. We can't exactly offer them much." 

"I would say nothing, beyond Insomnia's support and protection, and a promise to return the favour should they ever be in trouble some day, though that should go without saying," Ignis says, settling himself into one of the chairs across from Noct's desk. "Lestallum will still be under Lucis' rule, after all, and everyone is grateful that you brought the dawn back—they just want to help." 

Noct nods absently out of habit, mind already racing ahead to all that is still needed to get Insomnia, and Lucis, moving towards being an actual kingdom again. There's a lot, and the panic of being overwhelmed by it all is lurking around the edges of his brain, waiting for an opportune moment to take over. He shoves it away. He doesn't want to have a panic attack, or _dissociate_ , or whatever other crazy things keep happening to him. "We'll have to start putting a government back together, if we're going to keep getting this many people." 

"Many were in the Citadel the day of the attack, and unfortunately did not make it through, but I know there are a few survivors who would probably be willing to come back to their old positions, and I can make some recommendations for new people who would at least be open to the idea, if you're amenable to the prospect," Ignis says. 

"Yeah, that'd be good." 

"We can go over it after lunch, perhaps?" 

Noct blinks. "Lunch?" 

"It is about that time. At least, my stomach believes so." 

Noct snorts, shaking his head. "Okay, fine." 

As they head down to the dining hall, his mind's still on the report, and all those numbers. There's more concerns than just food and government, and he's very uncomfortable with how fast things have progressed. He hadn't expected to get regular citizens back in the city until it was more permanently established, with adequate resources for every part of life here. "Has anyone tried to assess what the current wildlife population is in Insomnia—specifically, those species that will attack people?" 

There's a thoughtful pause before Ignis replies. "No, I believe for now the Crownsguard are simply patrolling the more human populated areas of the city, and killing any beasts that attack or prowl around. No moves have been made to start eradicating them from the city as of yet, although perhaps they should." 

"Yeah, those that are coming in from Lestallum probably aren't going to have much combat experience in defending themselves. I'll speak to Cor about it," Noct says as they step on to the elevator. 

As luck would have it, Cor's in the dining hall having lunch, so once Noct and Ignis have retrieved their rations they go take a seat with him. Cor glances to them, and finishes his bite of food before greeting them. "Noctis. Ignis." 

"Marshal," Ignis returns, and Cor doesn't even bother to correct him this time, simply rolling his eyes. 

"Cor," Noct says, ignoring the pleasantries, "I've seen the results of the unofficial census the Crownsguard conducted. The numbers are a lot higher than I expected." 

Cor nods, sipping at his water. "You have concerns?" 

"Yeah. Some of these people won't be able to defend themselves if some wild beast attacks them. Is there any way the Crownsguard can start hunting them down, maybe try to get an idea of the wildlife populations?" 

Cor grunts. "It's a good idea, but we unfortunately don't have enough people yet to send a skilled group out to specifically scout for beasts, either to get numbers or to hunt them down. Everyone I would feel confident enough in to handle it has their hands full with patrols. I'm still working on bringing in new recruits and training the first batch of them. Once they've finished, we should at least be able to widen patrols and keep a better eye out, but I'm afraid that's the best I can offer you for the time being." 

Noct frowns, using his fork to push his food around on the tray. It's not the answer he was hoping for, and he doesn't like it, but there's not much he can do if the manpower isn't there. "Alright. Just... get as many people as you can, as fast as you can, okay? We need to start moving to eliminate them as soon as possible. I don't want anything to happen, or for people to feel unsafe." 

"Understood," Cor says. "I'll do my best." 

Nodding, Noct knows that even if he's not exactly happy with it, he'll have to accept it for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for all the love! Life has gotten really stressful this past week. Without going into all the details, I've lost my financial aid for school, and though I'm trying to appeal it, if it gets denied, I'll have to drop out and move back home with my mom and figure out what the hell to do with my life. I'm mentioning this because it means that it's possible sometime in the next few weeks that I'll be busy packing and moving, and may not be able to upload a chapter on time at some point. Everything's really up in the air right now, so I wanted to give you guys the heads-up now rather than just disappear.
> 
> I'm not abandoning this fic, though, so no worries there. I've written up to chapter eight, I have the whole outline finished, and I'm really enjoying this fic. It will be finished! It just may or may not be a little slower than usual the next few weeks.
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter, leave a comment if you wish, this fic and the love you guys give it are pretty much the only bright spot in my life right now. ♥


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks to those of you who wished me well with my financial aid last chapter! It helped <3 I'm still in limbo with the whole situation, won't find out til sometime next week if my appeal gets approved or not, but in the meantime I'm attending classes anyway, so you're getting a Saturday chapter now instead of a Monday one, because I have class Monday and know I won't feel up to posting. This is a longer chapter, ~6500 words, and not at all happy, so, err, enjoy the emotional suffering?

"Happy Birthday, Noct."

The words are hesitant, and softly spoken, but Noct still jerks his head up to look at Ignis, caught off guard. "Thanks," he says automatically, but he doesn't really mean it. He hasn't been keeping close track of the days since they came back to Insomnia, and with time being so weird for him lately it's even easier for the days to pass by without his full awareness—he hadn't known today was his birthday at all. 

He doesn't know how to feel about it. He knows what his age _technically_ is, but does it really count, if he doesn't feel that age at all? "Something else?" he asks, when Ignis remains standing in front of his desk. 

Ignis hesitates again, obviously reluctant to speak, and Noct feels dread begin to coil low in his gut, knowing that whatever Ignis wants to say, he isn't going to like it. "Prompto has talked the kitchen staff into baking you a cake," Ignis says at last. "I believe their plan is to bring it out to you at dinner time, when the majority of people will be there, and can celebrate with you." 

A spike of nauseated panic stabs through him, and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. "I can't celebrate my birthday when I don't even know how old I am!" 

Ignis reaches behind him, feeling for the chair he knows is by Noct's desk, and then drops down into it. "Even if you don't necessarily feel it, the fact remains that it is 766, making you thirty-one. Come now, the celebration won't be much, and shouldn't require more than a few smiles and thank yous. I believe it would do well for making you look good in the public eye." 

Noct sits there and listens in disbelief, growing angrier with every word that his advisor says. It's not like Ignis to not be attuned to his feelings, and though Noct hasn't told him everything that's given him trouble since his return, he'd figured he'd said enough—at least enough that Ignis would understand why his birthday isn't something he wants to celebrate, and certainly not with others. He tries to rein in the anger, not wanting to lash out, but at Ignis' last words, he loses his control. 

Before he can hold it back, he finds words spilling out of him. "Easy for you to say!" he snaps as he rises up, making Ignis jerk in surprise at the forceful tone in his voice. He slams his hands down onto his desk. " _You_ didn't disappear into the Crystal and wake up to find that what felt like a mere heartbeat was really ten years! _You're_ not the one stuck in a body that makes you feel like a stranger to yourself, wondering how you could _possibly_ be thirty years old when your mind still feels twenty, and all your friends have changed and grown up and left you behind while you had _none_ of that, because those ten years didn't exist for you! How can I _possibly_ want to celebrate moving yet another year further away from all that time I lost?" He stops then, his voice catching on the last words, wavering, and he stands there, his chest heaving with the pieces of the truth that he's finally let out, trying hard to get his feelings back under control, feeling dangerously overwhelmed with emotions, the sensation of disconnecting and floating away from the world threatening him. 

Across from him, Ignis sits there a moment, silent, and then he quietly says, "You're right. I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me." 

"It's fine," Noct says, but it's _not_ fine, not at all. He's upset, and feels embarrassed by the things he's just admitted. The room is slowly pulling away from him, but he fights hard against it, gripping the edge of his desk tightly, trying to keep himself grounded in the reality of now and not disconnect. He wants Ignis to comfort him, despite his anger, but he doesn't dare ask, given that he's just yelled at him and Ignis is probably now upset with him too. He starts taking steady, deliberate breaths, closing his eyes against the fade of the world and tells himself desperately in his head to _calm down_. 

It doesn't help. He hears a rustling of fabric, and opens his eyes to see Ignis now standing, uncertainty on his face as he remains seemingly frozen in indecision over whether to go to Noct or leave the room. He doesn't seem mad at all, merely worried, and it's enough for Noct. "Ignis—" he manages to say, in a broken, choked up voice, and Ignis is there immediately, coming carefully around the desk to him. Noct turns and grabs at him as Ignis approaches, and feels himself being pulled into a hug. He allows himself to fall into it, pressing his head against Ignis while he breathes out shakily and tries not to cry. 

"It's too hard," he whispers, and Ignis holds him tighter, saying nothing. Eventually Noct feels himself calming, the threatening disconnect receding as his tumultuous emotions settle some, but he doesn't pull away from Ignis, because it feels too nice being in his arms. Maybe it's not something friends would normally do, maybe it's weird, but he doesn't really care, because it feels right, and that's all that matters to him. As long as Ignis is content to hold him, he's content to stay. 

"Noct... Have you given any thought to talking to anyone, or perhaps trying medication?" Ignis' words are clearly reluctant, hesitant to upset Noct further, but he says them nonetheless. 

"...I don't know if I can," Noct admits. "I definitely don't think I can talk to anyone, and my last experiences with medication didn't go so well..." 

"I believe it would not be as bad this time, as you're older, and some of the side effects you experienced previously have less of a chance of affecting you," Ignis says. "If nothing else, you could try starting with some anti-anxiety pills, to perhaps keep you calmer when you feel an episode coming on." 

"I don't know..." 

"A prescription for some would be easy enough to obtain without requiring great detail, and even if you're not ready now, you could keep them on hand for when you are ready to try them." 

Noct feels that it's more of an _if_ at this point, rather than a _when_ , but he can tell it's important to Ignis that at he at least consider it, so he lets out a thoughtful hum and says, "Maybe." And really, it wouldn't hurt to just get them, would it? It would ease Ignis' worries some, and Noct still wouldn't ever have to take them if he doesn't want to. 

"If you need any assistance with any of it, let me know," Ignis says. "And Noct, if you would rather not have a birthday celebration—" 

Noct pulls away from him with a sigh, already regretting the loss of contact. "No," he interrupts, dropping back into his seat and rubbing at his forehead. "It's fine. People won't understand if I ask for there not to be one." 

Ignis retakes his own seat as well, frowning. "Very well. I'll be there right beside you; if it gets too overwhelming, you can reach for my hand under the table if you have need." 

"Thanks, Specs," Noct says softly. A little niggling voice in the back of his mind whispers that it's probably not healthy for him to depend so heavily on Ignis to not disconnect, but he ignores it, not caring. It works for now. 

* * *

His mini birthday celebration later that evening goes as Ignis said it would. Noct sits there and smiles through it all and pretends to be happy with it, answering "Great!" when someone asks him how it feels to be another year older, but inside he's falling apart, struggling with how surreal it feels knowing he's thirty-one when the last birthday he can remember, he only turned twenty. He wants to pick up the cake and hurl it across the room and scream about how all wrong everything feels, but Prompto's grinning at him from across the table, so proud of himself for organising this little surprise for him, and that more than anything keeps Noct seated, giving Prompto a return grin that he doesn't feel at all. 

Underneath the table, Ignis is squeezing his hand tightly, and Noct absolutely appreciates it, he really does, but right now it's not nearly enough, and he knows if he doesn't leave soon, he's going to break and come undone in front of everyone, and then they'll all know about his dissociations and panic attacks and how not at all together he really is. 

When he can't take it a second later, he pulls away from Ignis and stands, making some lame excuse about being tired and needing rest, then flees to his room. He curls up on his bed, taking a few breath deeps to calm down. Ignis joins him not long after, curling his body around Noct in silent comfort, and Noct lets himself be lulled to sleep by the sound and feel of Ignis' steady breathing against him. 

He jerks awake a few hours later, the remnants of his nightmare echoing in his mind. He'd been back in Altissia, fighting Leviathan again, and he'd fallen into the churning waters below him, trying to swim to some nearby wreckage, but he'd kept slipping beneath the waves, slowly drowning... He shudders, letting out a shaky breath as he forcefully shoves the dream away, focusing on the reality. Once he does, he realises three things. One, he needs to pee. Two, Ignis is still curled up against him in sleep. And three, Ignis is hard—and it's pressing into Noct's back. 

He feels a rush of heat flood his face at that realisation, but it's not poking into him uncomfortably, so Noct stays still where he is, telling himself that he doesn't want to move and wake his friend and potentially embarrass him. Eventually though, his need for the bathroom becomes too great, and he slides slowly out of the bed. When he comes back, he's careful not to cuddle up too close against Ignis. He misses feeling Ignis' warmth pressed against him though, and it takes him awhile before he finally falls back into a nightmare-filled sleep. 

* * *

In the week following his birthday, Noct finds himself overwhelmed with another bout of depression. He feels even more keenly the loss of those ten years, and he can't seem to stop yearning to go back in time and gain those years back somehow, desperately wishing that he could experience them properly, the way he should have all along. It weighs painfully on his mind, dragging his mood down into despair. He's aware of it happening, knows he's sliding further into it every day, but he feels helpless to stop it. Every day is a struggle to get out of bed, to find the energy to do things and care about the world around him. He begins sleeping in even later than usual, and going to bed earlier. He naps at least once during the day, despite the worried looks Ignis gives him. He starts skipping meals, because his appetite is non-existent now, and brushes away concerns from both Ignis and Prompto with excuses of not having the time to eat. He showers only when he feels too gross to stand it, because otherwise it's just too much effort. 

He spends a large portion of his days hiding away in unused areas of the Citadel, claiming that he's working on fixing them up to be used, but he does very little work. Instead, he's frequently getting lost in his thoughts, thinking about those ten years, wondering how differently they might have gone if he'd been there for them, if he'd been able to defeat Ardyn immediately and save Eos from the Starscourge. He develops wonderful little fantasies, ones where Ignis was never blinded and Luna killed, where he takes back Insomnia and repairs the damage to the Citadel and becomes a good king to his people, and is _happy_ and _sane_ because he hasn't lost ten years, hasn't become a stranger to himself or found himself in a world he recognises but doesn't at the same time, or in a world where all his friends have grown up and become people that are still the same and yet so different. 

It's never quite enough, however. They're nice to think about, but at the end of the day, he knows they're only fantasies, and that's all they'll ever be—he's forever stuck with this world where ten years disappeared in an instant, and it stresses him out, causing him to disconnect—dissociate, he should really start calling it by its proper name, he's _dissociating_ —frequently throughout the week. Every time it happens, he wants to seek out Ignis, and sometimes he does, but it's so frequent that he doesn't want Ignis to realise how bad he's gotten, so other times he stays alone wherever he is, suffering through it. 

It fast wears on him, making his depression even greater, and he soon alternates between wanting to cry all day in bed and wanting to sleep the world away. Instead he continues to wander throughout the numerous rooms in the Citadel, many of which he's never even seen before. In one room, he accidentally catches sight of himself in a large, dusty mirror hanging above an equal dusty dresser, and the resulting panic attack is so great that he actually goes to the medical wing later and asks for the anti-anxiety pills Ignis wanted him to take. He's given a bottle of xanax and a prescription he'll have to take to Lestallum to fill if he needs more. 

He doesn't take any of them—just sets them down on the dresser in his room and does his best to forget they're there. 

The next morning, Ignis corners him before he can slink away from everyone. "I have some reports I need to discuss with you today." 

Noct sighs. Ignis' tone doesn't sound pleased. The news probably isn't good. Noct doesn't want to hear it. "Is it urgent?" he asks. 

Ignis frowns. "Not as such; however, there are problems that do need to be addressed as soon as possible," he says. 

Noct resists the urge to groan and whine about having to deal with it. Coronation or not, and his feelings on the matter aside, he's technically king, and he has too many people looking to him to take care of them. He can't abandon them simply because he'd rather shirk his duty like a teenager skipping class. "Fine," he says, and follows Ignis to their offices. 

When they get there, he immediately settles down into his desk, leaning forward and propping his elbows on it, resting his head against his hands. "Lay it on me, Specs," he says. 

Ignis takes his own seat, setting some papers down on the desk and pushing them across towards Noct. He glances down at them briefly; they're more population reports, numbers and statistics that he doesn't have the energy to make sense of right now. "There have been too many people flooding into Insomnia too fast these past few weeks," Ignis tells him. "We lack enough space and food to accommodate all of them. Some people have turned to living on their own in the city, either going back to their old homes or finding somewhere suitable to live, but many are seeking asylum with us here in the Citadel, and we simply do not have the resources for them anymore. We never intended to host the common citizens, only those that were here to help with the rebuilding efforts." 

Noct finally gives in to the urge to groan, even as his stomach twists unpleasantly with anxiety. "Prompto's farm?" he asks. He hasn't been keeping up with the developments like he should—he just hasn't _cared_ enough lately. But now it means he has no idea where things stand, and realising that makes him feel ashamed of himself. 

Ignis shakes his head. "It's set up for an autumn harvest, but it will still be months before we can count on that food. Even then, it won't be enough for the amount of people we'll likely have by winter's time if they keep coming in. And while there is the housing out there for those who are working, livable space is still limited." 

"What about Lestallum, or Tenebrae, or any of the cities in Accordo, maybe Altissia...? Could they help us?" Noct doesn't even bother to mention any part of Niflheim—after what he'd seen in Gralea, he knows they'll be no better off. He doesn't expect much help from Tenebrae or Accordo either, but at least there's a better chance. 

"Lestallum is already giving as much as they can, and Tenebrae and Accordo are busy with trying to rebuild their own nations. While they would be amenable to lending aid, they have none to give at this time. We're on our own for now," Ignis says. He sounds apologetic about it, but it doesn't soothe Noct's anxiety. 

"...So we can't take in any more people, is what you're saying." 

"If they were willing to fend for themselves, they would not be a problem." 

Noct stays silent, absently biting down on his lip. Insomnia has always been home to so many people in Lucis, and he's seen first-hand how thankful they are to have their city back again. All that time he'd spent gathering the royal arms, all his fighting against endless hordes of daemons and MTs, getting the Astrals' blessings, struggling to survive against the Crystal... he'd always told himself it was to take Insomnia back. And yeah, it was mostly for himself, but he knew it would be for the people too. And after they've had to spend ten years in darkness away from their home, he doesn't want to deny any of them the chance to finally return. 

If he doesn't though... He doesn't want to be responsible for anyone dying due to lack of food, or safe shelter, or any number of other reasons. "Tell Cor I'm ordering the Crownsguard to restrict entry to the city," Noct finally says, and he can't keep the unhappy tone from his voice. "I know their numbers are still thin, but get him to set up people at the old checkpoint. No one gets in unless they're bringing needed resources, or they've been recruited for the Crownsguard or some other work effort. We'll have to get some sort of ID for people, too, so that those who are already here can come and go as they please." 

"It's the right decision, Noct," Ignis says, his voice soft. 

"Yeah," Noct agrees. He knows Ignis is right, but it doesn't stop him from feeling like he's failed. Failed his people, his friends, his dad, himself. 

Ignis reaches across the desk, gently patting Noct's arm in support, then takes his leave, presumably to find Cor. Once he's gone, Noct lowers his arms down onto the desk and pillows his head atop them. He hasn't been awake for long, but he doesn't care. He's unhappy and depressed, and all he wants is to sleep the world away. He can't deal with it anymore. 

* * *

Several loud chimes from his phone drag Noct unwillingly out of sleep. He rolls over and grabs the offending device off the bedside table, wincing and closing his eyes for a moment at the bright display, then squints at it, swiping to bring up the full messages that Cor has sent him. 

_Noctis._

_Pls meet me in the lobby._

_This can't wait. It's important._

_If you're not here in ten minutes I'll blow up your phone._

"Ugh," he mutters. He wonders where Cor managed to learned the phrase "blow up your phone" or if perhaps he means it literally. Noct wouldn't put it past the man. Either way, Noct drags himself out of bed, quickly throwing his clothes from last night on, and then drags himself down to the lobby. It's still dark out—way too early to be awake. 

He's curious what Cor wants him for. He assumes it has something to do with his orders to close down the city, and can't understand why Cor needs to discuss it _right this second_. When he catches sight of the serious look on the man's face, however, he realises that it's something else—and it's not good. 

"What is it?" he asks as he approaches Cor, not bothering with greetings. 

Cor glances around, and despite them being the only two people in the lobby at this ungodly hour, he leans in close to Noct and says in a low tone, "A body was discovered less than an hour ago by one of my men out on patrol." 

Noct stares at him. The words register, but they make no sense. "What?" 

"It's male. Older. Not any of my Crownsguard, or any of the workers I recognise. He was mauled to death, I'd say a sabertusk by the look of the wounds." 

Noct stares some more. He feels like he's just been punched in the gut. He'd been worried about something like this happening, had spoken to Cor about it a few times since first bringing it up, but when they'd finally managed to scrape together enough people for a few scouting groups, he'd thought it would be fine. 

"We've kept it quiet for now," Cor continues on, when Noct doesn't say anything. "There shouldn't be a panic about safety, but given this incident, we'll be stepping up our training for the recent batch of new recruits, and we'll have to get more people in so we can increase patrols and scouting expeditions. I know the city's stretched thin on resources, and you've ordered a lockdown on anyone new coming in, but we need more people." 

"Yeah, that's fine," Noct says. "Whatever you need." He's barely listening, still reeling with the thought that one of his citizens has died—has been _mauled to death_. He knows people are going to die, that's inevitable, but it never should have happened like this. People should be safe in Insomnia. As king, he should be able to provide them better shelter and protection. "Where's the—where is he right now? The man?" 

"Gladio's dealing with the body now. He should be in later to let you know the specifics. I just wanted you to be aware now, so that if word _does_ happen to get out, you aren't caught off guard." 

Noct nods. "Right. Thanks." 

Cor takes his leave then, and Noct stands alone in the lobby after he's left, his brain quickly spiralling down in devastation. He can't believe this has happened. He should have locked off the city the moment he realised people were living out there on their own with all those wild beasts roaming. Or perhaps he should have listened to his brain's fears a few months ago when they first came back, and never tried to rebuild Insomnia. He'd known he wasn't capable of it, known it would be too much work, and yet he'd stupidly tried it anyway. 

The familiar sensations of disconnecting from the world start flowing in, the room growing around him as the feel of the floor beneath him disappears. He swallows hard, feeling panic creeping in, and stumbles over to the elevator. It takes him a moment to focus enough to hit the right button—the buttons look much further away than they actually are, and that throws him off—but soon enough he's stepping off on the correct floor. 

As the doors slide close behind him with a quiet ding, he hesitates. He wants Ignis, and should probably _get_ Ignis, if just to inform him of the situation, but Ignis will worry about him, and ask if he wants to talk about it, and even if Noct says no he'll wind up doing so anyway, as he always does, and he really would rather get back in bed and sleep away the panic and upset until the world becomes real again. No, he decides, he can't deal with Ignis right now. 

Mind made up, Noct makes his way to his bedroom, hating how unreal everything feels as he walks. He doesn't feel like he's a part of the world, doesn't feel that he really exists in it, and it scares him. 

Once he's in his room, however, he can breathe a little easier. He sets his phone down on his dresser, his hand bumping into a bottle that rattles as it tips over. He looks at it, confused, and then realises it's the pills he'd gotten before. He picks up the bottle, fiddling with the lid. He's still scared to try them, but the way he's feeling now is scary too, and exhausting, and he doesn't want to feel it anymore. 

Before he can think too deeply about it, he pops off the lid, shaking a pill out, and swallows it down with some of the rum Gladio had given him as a late birthday present a few days ago. He sets the bottle back down then, but before he can let go of it, a thought slithers its way into his brain: _Why stop?_

It should terrify him, normally _would_ terrify him, but somehow, right now, it feels okay. After all, he's failed at being a king, failed his people deeply, and doesn't deserve to be one anymore. He's not worthy of it. He _knows_ his dad would be disappointed and ashamed were he here to see how badly Noct's fucked everything up. 

His head's all fucked up too, all the depression and the dissociating and the panic attacks, none of it's going to leave him alone. And he's just so _tired_. He doesn't want to do this anymore, doesn't want to keep dealing with everything and trying to pretend he's fine while constantly breaking apart inside. He just wants to sleep, and if he never wakes up again, maybe that isn't so bad. 

Snatching the bottle back up, Noct takes it and the alcohol over to his bed. He shakes out a second pill, looking down at it, and then swallows it down. A third follows after, and then a fourth, and then he decides that's too slow, so he does a few at the same time next. He doesn't know how many are in the bottle, but by the time it's empty and his rum's half-gone he's starting to feel really sleepy. His head's feeling weird too, woozy and light, floating strangely, and the dissociating feelings haven't gone away either, so he caps the alcohol and lays back on the bed, stretching out. 

He thinks fuzzily that he should be more upset. He's just swallowed a bunch of pills with alcohol, he can't brush it off as anything other than an attempt at killing himself, so he ought to be scared and sobbing and second-guessing his actions. Instead he's strangely calm, and _relieved_. He won't ever have to feel depressed again, or disconnect from the world, or be sick at seeing his own reflection. He just... won't be, and that's really appealing. 

Closing his eyes, Noct waits to drop off to sleep and never wake again. 

* * *

Noct's return to awareness is slow, and requires a lot of effort of fighting through the exhaustion and disorientation weighing him down. For a moment, he wonders if he's had some really long and terrible dream, and he's waking up for the first time after his fight with Titan—the sensations are so similar. But when he opens his eyes and sees the walls of the Citadel's medical wing, he knows it's all been real. 

He blinks a few times, clearing his vision, and when he goes to wipe at his eyes he realises there's something on his hand. He glances down and sees an IV stuck in it. He doesn't remember that happening, doesn't remember anything about how he got in the medical wing, what they must have done to him, who brought him here, who found him. 

He turns his head, and sees Ignis sitting in a chair pulled up next to his bed. He's not wearing his visor, and that's shocking enough to make him speak. "Specs?" His voice is raspy, his throat raw and aching. He's unsure why, has no memory of it getting that way. Had he screamed a lot at some point? Or had they stuck something down his throat? 

"Noct," Ignis says, and the raw relief in his voice hurts Noct to hear. He looks away. "How are you feeling?" 

Noct shrugs, before remembering Ignis can't see the motion. "You found me?" 

"Gladio." 

"Oh." He vaguely remembers Cor saying something about Gladio wanting to talk to him, that morning... He doesn't want to think about it now though. It's too much effort, and he can't even begin to work out how he feels about everything. "I'm tired..." 

Ignis reaches out, gently carding fingers through his hair. Noct looks back at him, and sees that Ignis is now crying, tears rolling silently down his cheek from his clouded eye. It makes Noct feel terrible, engulfing him in guilt and shame. "I'm sorry..." he mumbles. 

"Shh. Rest for now, Noct," Ignis tells him, still petting his hair. "We'll talk about it when you're better." 

Noct wants to respond to that, wants to say that they may never get to talk about it then, but the pull of sleep is too strong and inviting, and drags him back under before he can speak. 

When he wakes again, the room is bright is with sunshine, and Ignis is asleep on a small cot in the corner of the room. Prompto's in the chair Ignis had been in earlier, and he smiles gently when Noct looks over at him. "Hey, how ya feeling, buddy?" He keeps his voice soft, clearly trying not to wake Ignis. 

Noct shrugs at him, not sure how to answer that. He doesn't know how he's feeling—he's keeping everything in his head at bay, and physically he just feels exhausted. "Ignis should be in his room getting real sleep," he says instead. 

"Well, we tried to make him, but he refused to leave. Think he was scared you might die if he did." 

"Why would..." He trails off, too tired to think about how to word his question, but Prompto seems to get it anyway. 

"Do you remember anything about being found?" he asks. 

Noct shakes his head. "Specs said it was Gladio." 

"Yeah, Gladio found you. He went in to talk to you and saw the alcohol and the empty bottle of pills... Said you were conscious and mumbling, but really out of it, so he immediately scooped you up and ran all the way here with you." 

The mental image of Gladio running through the Citadel with Noct in his arms might have been a funny one, if it wasn't such a serious topic. Despite that, Noct still wants to laugh, but he finds he's too tired. He'd probably just worry Prompto anyway. 

"He called me while he was in the elevator, so Ignis and I met him here," Prompto goes on. Noct can see that it's hurting his best friend to recall it all, but he's morbidly curious about what happened, so he doesn't tell him to stop. "You weren't breathing very well, so the doctors said they were afraid to give you charcoal in case you threw it up, but that meant they had to pump your stomach, 'cause they didn't have some sort of antidote on hand." Prompto pauses then, swallowing hard. "I don't know how conscious you really were, or if you understood what was happening, but when they started putting the tube down your throat, you fought against it, screaming and telling them no." 

Noct doesn't want to hear any more of it anymore. Prompto's words are bringing back flashes of memories now, brief and frightening, and they're making him feel sick. He remembers knowing that they were trying to save him, and he hadn't wanted it. "Stop," he says hoarsely. 

Prompto looks at him, his face solemn, and it scares Noct, because he's so rarely ever seen his best friend look this serious. "If Gladio hadn't found you, if we'd all assumed you'd just gone off on your own somewhere again, you probably would have died, Noct. It scared all of us, but I think it scared Iggy the most. He hasn't left your side at all." 

Noct looks over at Ignis again, curled up in the cot, and remembers him crying as he ran his fingers through Noct's hair. Noct hadn't given much thought to his friends while he'd been swallowing down all those pills. Hadn't thought about how they'd react if he killed himself, or whether they'd miss him. He feels horribly selfish suddenly, and deeply ashamed of himself again. "I'm sorry," he whispers, and though it's Prompto hearing his words, it's Ignis that he's really saying them to. 

"You don't have to be sorry. Just... maybe talk to one of us first next time, or _someone_ , if you're thinking about doing something like that again," Prompto says, and Noct hates the tremor he hears in his voice. He decides then that there isn't going to be a next time for his friends to be worried about. No matter what. 

He dozes then, drifting between dreams and reality, never quite fully sinking down into either. Hushed voices eventually drag him back into the waking world, and as he listens he realises that Ignis is awake, and Prompto's leaving. "You should go too," he mumbles, sleep fogging his voice. 

Ignis starts, whirling around and nearly falling over the chair he was starting to settle into. He catches himself and rights the chair, blushing lightly. "Heavens, Noct, you startled me." 

"Sorry. But you don't have to stay, Iggy." 

"You can't be left alone right now, and Prompto has some work to attend to." 

Noct wants to argue against that, but he knows in their place, he wouldn't leave himself alone right now either. "Gladio?" He hasn't seen him around, and the potential reasons for why not worry him. Is Gladio mad at him for what he did? "Does he not want to be here?" he asks, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. He doesn't do a very good job, judging by the way Ignis reaches out and feels for his hand, curling his fingers tightly around it once he grasps it. 

"Gladio stayed for a long time, Noct, but he was restless and upset, so I ordered him to go back on patrol and work through his feelings so that he didn't do anything stupid once you finally woke," Ignis says, squeezing his hand gently. 

"Is he mad?" 

"No. I believe he feels that he's failed you as your Shield, and he's certainly worried, but he's not angry with you. I can promise you that, Noct." 

Noct lets out a small sigh, feeling relieved. He doesn't know why, but he believes Ignis. Maybe he's finally starting to accept the changes he's seen in his friends since his return. Or maybe he's too afraid to believe any different. "Wanna talk to him." 

"I shall text him." Ignis pulls his hand away, leaving Noct's hand cold. He lies there and listens to Ignis' phone spelling out letters, just letting the sound wash over him. He's too tired to follow along with what's being spelled. A few minutes later, the phone chimes with a reply, reading out _on my way_. 

"You gonna leave when Gladio gets here?" Noct murmurs, extending his hand to tug at Ignis' arm. He wants Ignis' hand around his again. Ignis hesitates at first, seeming confused, until Noct begins to move his arm closer to the bed, and then he gets it, firmly entwining their fingers together, resting their hands in a position that will be comfortable for Noct. 

"If you wish for me to," Ignis says, but the reluctance in his tone is obvious. 

"Yes," Noct says simply. 

"...Very well." 

Noct lays there quietly after that, enjoying the feel of Ignis' hand in his. Guilt and regret are lurking around the edges of his mind, but he ignores them for now. There will be time enough to think about his stupidity later. 

Footsteps alert the both of them to Gladio's arrival a short time later, and they look up. "Hey," Gladio says. He stays standing in the doorway, rubbing at his neck with one hand as he shifts on his feet, unease written across his face as he looks at Noct. 

"Hey," Noct returns. He frowns as Ignis lets go of his hand to take his leave, but can't really protest, since Ignis is only doing what he'd asked. 

"I shall return in a few hours," Ignis says as Gladio moves aside, finally stepping into the room. Noct nods, then looks at Gladio once it's just the two of them. 

"Are you mad?" he asks. He's already asked Ignis, and he believed the answer he got, but he wants to hear it from Gladio. 

"No. I ain't mad," Gladio says, crossing the room to plop down in the chair. "I'm a million other things, but I ain't mad." He rubs at his neck again. "How are you feeling?" 

Shrugging, Noct glances away for a moment, biting down on his lip, then looks back at Gladio. "Iggy and Prompto said you found me. I'm sorry, that I put you through that..." 

Gladio shakes his head. "I'm the one who should be sorry." 

Noct blinks. "For what?" He can't figure out what Gladio has to be sorry about. He hasn't done anything wrong. None of his friends have, and though he knows they're probably all feeling guilty anyway, he doesn't want or need their apologies. He's the only one to blame. 

"I've should've been a better Shield to you, a better _friend_. I thought the city needed me more than you did, but I should've been here to see that you were struggling, to help you." 

"That had nothing to do with it," Noct says with a sigh that soon turns into a yawn. He's not sure if it's depression or the remnants of the pills, but he can't seem to shake this heavy exhaustion. "It's not your fault. You haven't failed me." 

Gladio lets out a rueful laugh. "Ignis told you that?" 

"He was guessing," Noct says around another yawn. "I would have thought it too, though..." A third yawn hits, and he's struggling to keep his eyes open now, but he has one last thing he wants to say. "I know I could have talked to you guys at any time, but I didn't _want_ to. I would have swallowed those pills even if you _had_ been around more, Gladio. So I'm sorry." 

"Okay," Gladio says gruffly, and Noct wonders if he's going to cry too. "Apology accepted. Now get some sleep." 

"You stayin'?" Noct mumbles, and barely hears Gladio's "'Course I am," before sleep claims him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and stay safe fam ♥ If it helps, some less angsty bits are coming in a few chapters. I'm actually stuck on writing chapter nine because I'm trying to write said less angsty bits and, well... let's just say I prefer angst. Anyways, thanks as always for the comments and love <3
> 
> This chapter now has an accompanying side scene that can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17033568/chapters/40048724). A second one is [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17033568/chapters/40705973). A third and final one is located [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17033568/chapters/40753076).


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, have a chapter~ since I know I won't feel like it tomorrow again. Oh, but on that note, my financial aid appeal got approved \o/ I don't have to drop out of school and move last minute ;; I celebrated by alternating between playing Stardew Valley and Final Fantasy XV all week and _not_ working on writing chapter ten, whoops. But I'll do my best to stay ahead still so I won't stop posting.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

A loud thud followed by a softly uttered curse jolts Noct out of his sleep, and he sits up with a yawn, rubbing at his eyes to see Prompto picking himself up off the ground while grinning at him sheepishly. "Sorry, Noct..."

Noct groans, and flops back down on the bed. "Why are you in my room?" he asks, though he has his suspicions about the answer. Now that he's been released from the medical wing, his friends are probably worried he'll try to kill himself again. Honestly, he'd expected them to take turns babysitting him and never let him be alone. 

"Uh, just checking on you...?" Prompto tries. "To see if you needed anything... do you?" 

Letting out a sigh, Noct closes his eyes, hoping Prompto isn't going to stick around. He still feels drugged with fatigue, and wants to be left alone to sleep. "To see if I'm still alive, you mean," he says as he opens his eyes again and glances over at Prompto. He's not willing to tiptoe around the truth. 

Prompto winces. "Uh... yeah. That too." 

Rolling on his side, away from Prompto, he waves a hand up in the air. "Well, I already took all my pills and one of you took my alcohol, so you can report back to the others that I'm still alive for now." 

"Are you mad at us?" Prompto asks, and he sounds incredulous. "We're worried about you, Noct..." 

Guilt crawls through him, heavy and insidious. "Just tired," he says. "Sorry." 

"I was trying not to wake you... Sorry," Prompto offers, giving him a hesitant smile. "I'll let you sleep. If you need anything, just text me or Iggy. Gladio's helping Cor with something." 

"Okay," he mumbles, already halfway to sleep. Prompto leaves then, and he drifts off. 

The next couple of days after that are trying, with his friends popping in frequently to check on him, often waking him or asking him questions he doesn't know how to answer, such as how he's feeling. They bring him food at meal times that he has no appetite for, but has to slowly pick at until they're satisfied or come to realise he isn't going to eat any more of it. The first night, Ignis insists on staying with him through the night. Noct's not opposed to sharing a bed with him, and normally enjoys the casual intimacy between the two of them, but all he wants at the moment is to be left alone to drown in his depression. 

By the third day, Noct's fed up, and can't take the constant checking up anymore—it's interrupting his sleep and grating on his already poor mood. When Ignis comes in, quietly shutting the door behind him, Noct snaps at him. "You and the others can stop checking up on me! I'm alive, okay? I'm not going to try it again." 

There's a long, silent pause, and then Ignis quietly says, "I never thought you would try it the first time," and hot shames blankets Noct, heavy and stifling. He says nothing, and rolls over to ignore Ignis and suffocate in his guilt until he falls asleep. 

When he wakes again, it's dark out, and Ignis is there once more, bringing food this time. He's not wearing his visor again, and Noct wonders when he became comfortable enough to do that. 

Ignis holds the plate out to him, and he shakes his head, even though he knows Ignis can't see it. "I'm not hungry," Noct says. 

"You should try," Ignis says, sitting down on the other side of the bed, plate still in hand. "You've not eaten nearly enough lately." 

With monumental effort, Noct pulls himself to a sitting position, but makes no move to take the plate. It's an egg and garula sausage scramble, no hint of vegetables anywhere, and he normally loves it, but right now the sight of it makes his stomach roll unpleasantly. "Can't," he says simply. He's still feeling shame from Ignis' earlier remark, along with guilt over worrying his friends, and self-loathing for ever letting himself swallow those pills in the first place. Emotions are growing in him, swirling around, and for the first time since waking in the med wing, he can't seem to shove them away and not think about them. He wants Ignis to leave, because he knows he's going to break down soon, and he wants to do it alone. 

Ignis sighs, and leans down to carefully set the plate on the floor beside the bed, out of the way so that he won't step on it when he leaves. "I'd like to talk, then, if you're not willing to eat, Noct." 

His stomach twists. "I don't want to." 

"I'm worried for you." 

Noct bites at his lower lip as tears prick at his eyes, wishing Ignis wouldn't say that. He knows his friends are worried, but he hates hearing it. "I said I wasn't going to try again." 

"I didn't think you had reached a point where it was even an option," Ignis says, and his voice is quiet and pained. Noct gnaws harder on his lip. "If I'm to be honest, I'm still uncertain as to what made you reach that point. Was it your struggles dealing with the time lost to the Crystal?" 

"That's part of it..." A few tears slip out, tickling as they slide down his cheeks, but he makes no move to brush them away. The coppery metallic taste of blood explodes in his mouth, and he realises he's bitten hard enough to break through skin on his lip. It's a bad habit he really needs to break. 

"Your decision to lock down the city to newcomers?" 

"Iggy, it's—" A sob escapes, and he bites even harder, trying to stifle himself before more break out. He doesn't want to cry, doesn't even want to talk, but when Ignis sounds all gentle and understanding and concerned like that, he always finds words spilling out before he even realises it. "It's _everything_ ," he admits. "I hate that I lost ten years. Everything is so different, you guys are different, I avoid Prompto and Gladio all the time because they look different and it reminds me that it's been ten years even though it doesn't feel like it. 

"I hate that I was _gone_ , that everyone was in darkness and suffering because of _me_ , because I wasn't strong enough to kill Ardyn and purge the Starscourge when I should have. So many people died because of me, and I lost all that time, and now it's all screwing up my head, I'm so fucked up, I feel like I'm losing my mind, and everyone expects me to be this great and amazing king like my dad, and I'm _trying_ , I am, but I'm not good enough like him, I'm not strong enough, I'm not _worthy_ enough, because I can't even rebuild one damn city, and now someone's died because of my failure." 

He's sobbing openly now, tears dripping down his face to wet his shirt, and he's ashamed to be so pathetic in front of Ignis, but at the same time he desperately wants Ignis to reach out to him, to hug him or tangle their fingers together or rub his back, _something_ , anything as long as it's physical affection meant to comfort him. He's hurting, his chest aching sharply with grief and guilt and despair, the pain making his breaths come tight and gasping in between his words. 

"Noct, you're not a failure—" 

"I _am_!" he cries, ignoring the things Ignis is still trying to tell him. "I don't deserve this, I've failed everyone, all my people, you guys, and I know my dad would be disappointed in me, and Luna, and you guys should be too because I can't just be normal and happy with what I have, that I'm alive, and I have you guys still. I'm supposed to be fixing all the pain I brought and instead I try to kill myself and cause more. I _wanted_ to die, Specs, I knew what I was doing and I was okay with it—I was _relieved_ by it, and I know that makes me a terrible person—" 

Gentle hands grasp his chin, surprising him enough to cut off his outpouring of emotions, and he follows automatically, obediently when Ignis tugs his head toward him, and then before he can really process what's happening, Ignis is bending down, pressing their lips firmly together, his aim off at first but quickly adjusting as he feels out where Noct is. It's an eternity and a quick heartbeat and then Ignis is pulling away before Noct even has time to react. 

He stares for a moment, stunned at what's just happened, trying to wrap his brain around the fact that _Ignis kissed him_ , but then the thought comes that it felt nice, _really_ nice, and suddenly he's surging forward frantically, reaching and pulling Ignis down to him, letting their mouths meet, foreheads and noses bumping before they find the right spot, and then it's soft, warm heat on his mouth, and he melts into the kiss easily, naturally. Noct's never kissed anyone before, he's not entirely sure what to do, but when Ignis' tongue licks at his lips he opens willingly, letting him in, going on instinct and what feels good. 

He loses track of time then, letting all thoughts scatter from of his mind as he loses himself in the sensations of Ignis kissing him, leaving his mouth to trail soft open-mouthed kisses along his jawline, down his neck, slow and sensual, and it's good, so good, and Noct's moaning, hands looped around Ignis' neck and pulling him close, fire running all along his nerves as he blazes under Ignis' touch. Heat pools low in his belly, and he's hard, achingly so, his dick straining tight against his boxers, precum leaking out and leaving an uncomfortable wet spot. 

Ignis' mouth latches onto Noct's skin, suckling hard at the soft pulse of his throat and Noct moans again, stomach fluttering as Ignis leaves his mark, because it's good, still so good, but it's not _enough_ , he needs more, so he lays back on the bed and pulls Ignis on top of him. Ignis tumbles over him with a startled cry, but then Noct's pulling his head down again, fitting their mouths together, and Ignis is sucking on his lower lip now, hard enough to bruise, and Noct's gasping against him, breathy little whimpers of pleasure tumbling out of him. 

He's not even aware that he's jerked his hips up until Ignis moans into his mouth, and then they're both thrusting against each other feverishly, tongues tangled in each other's mouths and dicks sliding together through their clothes, they're hot and flushed, Noct's fingers are digging tightly into Ignis' back and Ignis is shaking above him, arms holding him up on both sides as he thrusts against Noct, and Noct is panting against Ignis' lips, thighs trembling as his balls pull up and his stomach goes taut, and he knows that they're going to make a mess of their clothes but he doesn't care, because it feels too good to stop. 

When he comes, he comes hard and fast, pulling away from Ignis long enough to groan his name as he spills out into his boxers, stomach clenching up tight, and it's apparently enough to tip Ignis over the edge into his own release, coming with a quiet moan into Noct's mouth that he swallows down greedily. 

Ignis lowers himself to rest gently on top of Noct then, and the two of them trade a few soft, lazy kisses as they slowly come down from their orgasms. Now that the urgency of the moment is over, Noct tries to make sense of what just happened, but a relaxed sleepiness is fogging his brain, keeping all of the painful emotions away, and he yawns against Ignis' mouth, wanting a nap. He can figure out everything later. 

Ignis rolls off of him, and there's a moment of fear where Noct's afraid he's going to leave, but instead he pushes Noct onto his side and then curls up from behind, flinging an arm over him, burying his face down into Noct's neck, and Noct lets out an incoherent, content noise as he presses back into Ignis and lets himself give into the pull of sleep. 

He wakes a few hours later, startling out of a nightmare that's already fading. Ignis is asleep behind him, still spooning him, and Noct can feel his semi-hard erection poking into his ass. It feels... nice. Still half-asleep, not really thinking about what he's doing, he pushes himself back against it, slowly rolling his hips, making Ignis grow harder against him. 

"Noct...?" Ignis murmurs, voice thick with sleepy confusion, and Noct rubs against his dick in lieu of an answer, letting out a quiet moan as his own arousal builds. 

It's encouragement enough for Ignis—he grinds lazy and languid against Noct's ass as he reaches over, groping for Noct's dick, pressing his palm firmly against it once he finds it. Noct groans, thrusting into Ignis' hand, and Ignis rubs him through his clothes, making what little coherent thought there was in Noct's brain short-circuit. His eyes flutter as heat coils again and then spreads, racing through his body as nerves hum with pleasure, all his senses heightened. 

Ignis is the one to come first this time, hips stuttering as he moans into Noct's neck, pressing a few gentle kisses against it, and continues to palm Noct until he comes too, crying out and curling his fingers into the sheets underneath him as his orgasm rips through him. Ignoring the mess he's made of his underwear for the second time, he cuddles up into Ignis again, fast falling once more into sleep. 

* * *

Noct's cold. He yawns, scooting back, wanting to cuddle up against Ignis, but as he moves he hits only empty air and a cold mattress. Blinking, he sits up, and finds that Ignis is gone. He checks his phone and finds that it's almost one in the afternoon, so it's not really surprising, but it still leaves him with a hollow, lonely ache in his chest at the realisation he's alone in the room. 

Huddling back under the covers, he thinks about yesterday and everything that happened. Ignis had kissed him. They'd... Well, Noct's not sure if it counts as sex, exactly, but it's still something he'd never expected to happen. Not with Ignis, who's always so hung up on duty and propriety and rules, even if they don't matter as much anymore. 

And it had been so sudden. He'd been crying, saying all those things that make him flush hot with embarrassment now that he's not in the grip of his sorrow—what had possessed Ignis to kiss him _then_ , of all times? And then Noct had just gone with it, shoving everything else away to get swept up in what they were doing... 

It had been nice though. Better than nice, it had been _great_. Really, really great. And they'd barely even done anything. Noct has no doubt that if they'd done anything more, it would have felt even better. But that's where problems start to come in, because Noct doesn't know if he wants it to happen again. Doesn't know what he feels about it at all, beyond it feeling good. 

He'd wondered a few times about what was going on between them, if their friendship went a little beyond normal, given how intimate they've been sometimes, but he's never thought it was anything _more_ than friendship. Now, looking back at it in this new light, he's wondering how he ever thought that. He's pretty sure Ignis has never cuddled with Gladio or Prompto in bed, or run his fingers through their hair, or held them after nightmares. Maybe that could be normal friendship for some people, but not _Ignis_. 

He doesn't know what to make of it, doesn't know what _Ignis_ thinks of it. Maybe he found it to be a natural progression, maybe he thinks it's normal for them because they've grown up together? But then, Noct doesn't think that himself, so he has a hard time believing Ignis would. 

But that brings him back to the question—why had Ignis kissed him? Given that he _had_ been upset, finally pouring out so many things he'd kept bottled up... had it just been some sort of pity, had Ignis simply felt sorry for him? Did he regret what happened, was that why he left without waking Noct up? Or was he being polite and letting Noct get some undisturbed sleep before he undoubtedly comes back later to check and make sure he's still alive? 

It's too confusing, and impossible to figure out what Ignis might be thinking, especially without even seeing him. But Noct can't sort out his own thoughts about it either. Does he _like_ Ignis, in that manner? He's attractive, Noct's at least thought that much since he was seventeen, but beyond that, he has no idea. He's always been raised with the knowledge that he'll have to take a wife someday, someone to be his queen and give him an heir to carry on the Lucis Caelum line. There's never seemed much point in speculating on his sexuality, or indulging in crushes. 

But that's all gone now—the Lucis Caelum line nearly ended, had the prophecy gone as it was meant to, and Noct can still choose to let it end with him if he wishes. Insomnia fell, there's currently no government, and he can rebuild it however he wants. If he wants to be with Ignis, he can—and if he wants an heir, he's sure there's ways for that too. 

He doesn't know, though, if that's what he wants. If he wants a relationship with Ignis, if he wants even just another sexual encounter... 

A soft knock sounds at the door, and Noct's stomach twists with anxiety as he sits up, expecting it to be Ignis, but it's Prompto who peeks his head in, and Noct can't decide if he's relieved or disappointed. "Hey... feeling any better today?" 

Noct sighs, and flops back down, staring up at the ceiling. "Where's Ignis?" 

"Uh... not sure, buddy. Do you need him?" 

"No." 

"Okay, well..." Prompto edges into the room, shutting the door behind him. "You hungry?" 

"Not really." He still has no appetite, there's just too much going on in his head. All this with Ignis, and he still has his suicide attempt to sort out, and everything he'd already been feeling before... it's too much, it's overwhelming, and he can't deal with it. Food is the last thing on his mind. 

"Do you need anything else?" 

Noct groans, rolling away from Prompto. "You guys don't need to keep checking up on me. I told Ignis I'm not going to try anything again, and I meant it." 

The bed dips as Prompto comes over and sits on the other side. "No offense, Noct, but it's a little hard to believe that right now. You're obviously not okay. You spend most of your time sleeping, you won't leave the room, you barely eat, Ignis had to beg to get you to shower the other day..." 

"I'm not okay, that doesn't mean I'm going to try and kill myself again. You guys have to start trusting me some time," Noct argues. 

Prompto's silent a moment. "Give us time, okay? It was scary, thinking you might have died... We only just got you back from the Crystal, you know? We don't want to lose you." 

Well, Noct can't really say anything to that. He bites down on his lip, working to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. "I'm going to shower," he eventually says. He doesn't really want to, it takes a lot of energy he doesn't have, but he wants to get away from Prompto before he cries, and maybe the steam will help clear his head from all the thoughts swirling around in it. 

He slides out of bed, ignoring Prompto as he grabs up some clean clothes and slips into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. He turns on the water to heat up and then strips slowly, making a face at the dried mess in his boxers, kicking them into a corner of the room before stepping into the tub. 

Standing under the spray, it doesn't take long for the tears to start, and he hopes Prompto has gone from the other room, so he can't hear the sobs ripping out of Noct's throat. He's decided he's not going to try again, and he intends to stick to that because he _does_ regret doing it, but it doesn't mean that he's completely okay with having survived. There's still an appeal in not existing anymore, in not having to live with everything going on, and it's tempting to entertain thoughts of a second attempt. 

But then he sees the fear and pain in his friends when they check up on him, or he makes references to his attempt, and he hates that he caused that in them, knows that he can't do that to them again, so he's glad to at least still be here for them. Like everything else in his life currently, it's confusing. It's easier to just not think about it, so he doesn't. 

When he finally emerges from the bathroom nearly forty minutes later, Prompto is gone, but there's a plate of food left on the nightstand. Noct picks at it, but he can't manage more than a couple of bites. It tastes like ash in his mouth, and sticks in his throat. 

Setting the plate back down, he pulls out his phone and mindlessly browses through some of the social media that's slowly making a comeback. He needs to shove the world away from him for awhile. Forget Ignis, forget Prompto and Gladio, forget his dissociation and his panic attacks, forget the pills... He doesn't want to think about any of it. 

* * *

Ignis doesn't come to check on Noct for the next few days. At first, Noct thinks maybe Ignis is just busy, but as time passes more and more without any sign of him, Noct begins fearing that Ignis is avoiding him because he regrets what happened between them. It plummets his mood even further, and he starts ignoring Prompto and Gladio when they come to check on him. 

They both try to get him to talk a few times, Prompto more than Gladio, but Noct refuses to answer them until they eventually give up and leave. Finally, however, Prompto seems to get fed up with it, confronting him directly. "I don't know what's happened to get you like this, Noct, but you've gotten worse, and I'm not going to leave until you talk to me and tell me what's bothering you." 

Noct says nothing, expecting Prompto to stand there and shift uncomfortably for a minute or two until taking his leave, but instead, he comes over to the bed, settling himself atop it and leaning back against the headboard, clearly in it for the long haul. Noct ignores him and closes his eyes, trying to sleep, but the weight of Prompto's determined silence is distracting. 

At last, Noct breaks the silence with a sigh, sitting up and scooting against the headboard as well, pulling his knees to his chest. "Have you ever... been unsure how you felt about someone, if you liked them?" he asks, trying to ignore the heat he feels flooding his cheeks. He can't believe he's actually going to talk about this with Prompto, but he can't sort out his feelings on his own, and he needs advice on how to talk to Ignis. And Prompto's clearly not leaving, so he might as well make himself useful. 

Prompto glances at him, but Noct's not sure if he can have this conversation with eye-contact. He looks away. There's a long moment of silence, long enough that Noct thinks Prompto isn't going to answer him, before he finally lets out a sigh of his own and begins to speak. 

"So... there was this woman I hooked up with once, several months after you disappeared in the Crystal," Prompto says. "We were working together on a job, it was after I'd separated from Gladio and Ignis. The world had gone to hell by then, and we were both lonely and horny and it just happened. We parted ways after that and never talked about it, but it was so good that the next time we had a chance, we did it again." 

Noct listens uncomfortably as his best friend talks. Hearing Prompto talk about what's so clearly the past for him is a stark reminder of Noct's lost time, and he worries he'll disconnect over it. He tries to focus on the other part of what Prompto's saying, wondering if he knows this woman—if maybe it was Cindy. He knows Prompto had crushed hard on her then, and he _had_ been living in the caravan at Hammerhead when Noct had returned, so he supposes it's possible, as much as it seems unlikely given how little interest Cindy had ever shown him in return. 

"Over the next couple of years we kept hooking up whenever we'd meet up and had a chance. At first I didn't think much of it, you know? It was just sex. But then it started feeling like more, and I got confused. I wasn't sure if I liked her romantically, or wanted more than friendship and sex." 

"Did you figure it out?" Noct asks, finally daring to look at Prompto again. 

Prompto shrugs. "Eventually. I finally realised I did like her—but also that a relationship would never work between us, and that if we kept hooking up, I was going to get hurt. So the next time we met up, we talked and decided to end it. But yeah, Noct, I was super unsure how I felt about her. It took me a few weeks to sort it out." 

"Was it Cindy?" He's genuinely curious, but also doubtful now. Prompto had never seemed uncertain about his crush on her. 

"Ah, no." A light blush dusts Prompto's cheeks. "It was, uh, it was Aranea." 

Noct blinks, surprised, and then grins, just for a split second. "So you have a thing for older women." 

"Shut up." Prompto flushes brighter, and then nudges Noct with his shoulder, clearly angling for a distraction. "So, your turn! Who's this person you're unsure about?" 

Doubt and anxiety rush back in with those words, and Noct sighs, turning his head away once more. "Promise you won't laugh?" 

"Cross my heart, Noct!" 

"It's Ignis," he admits with a mutter. 

Prompto snorts—technically not a laugh, but close enough. Noct scowls at him, his face going red, and he's on the verge of laughing it off and saying it was a joke, but then Prompto speaks up. "Sorry," he says. "It's just—dude, you two have always been super close, that's not a surprise at all." 

"It is to me!" Noct says. "I thought we were just friends." 

"So talk to me, buddy. What happened to make you think you might feel more?" 

Noct groans, hardly believing he's going to admit this. "...He kissed me. And... some other things." He doesn't want to go into the details. Not so much because he's embarrassed to say them (though he is, a bit, if he's honest), but because he's not sure Ignis would appreciate their friends knowing them. He's never struck Noct as a kiss and tell sort of guy. 

"You guys have sex?" 

"Does it count as sex if your clothes never actually come off?" Noct mutters. 

"Oh. You dry-humped like bunnies," Prompto says with a grin, bumping their shoulders together again. 

"Prompto!" Noct's pretty sure his face is going to be permanently red by the end of this conversation. He supposes that _is_ what he and Ignis had done, more or less, but he hates hearing it phrased like that. It makes him feel like an inexperienced, horny teenager—and in some ways he is, or close enough to it, but he doesn't want the reminder. It's embarrassing that he's twenty-one ( _thirty-one_ , but he's not going to think about that) and had never even kissed before the other night, much less done anything else with another person. 

"Sorry." Prompto doesn't look it, though. "What happened after that?" 

"We fell asleep. And then woke up and did it again, then fell back asleep. And when I woke up again, he was gone." 

At that, Prompto sobers, the grin on his face fading as his eyes turn to something more serious. "So you haven't talked about it." 

"No. I don't know what he feels about it... I think he's avoiding me," Noct admits, stomach clenching as he says the words. 

"Well, you two definitely need to talk about it... but it would help if you knew how _you_ feel about it, and him, before you did." 

"I don't know!" Noct snaps, frustration making him grumpy. "I've tried to think about it, but it's confusing!" He closes his eyes, rubbing at them with his fists, and takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. Prompto hasn't done anything wrong, and doesn't deserve his ire. "I don't know if I want a relationship with him, or sex, or if I like him enough for those things... I've never been allowed to like people that way before." 

"Noct..." Prompto's voice sounds sad at that, and Noct worries that his best friend is going to get all emotional on him, but after a moment he seems to brush it off and continue on with their conversation. "Okay, let's try this. How would you feel if you and Ignis never had sex again?" 

It's tempting to say again that he doesn't know. Instead, he takes a moment and truly tries to imagine it. It had been really nice with Ignis. Physically, obviously, but emotionally, too—it had just felt right, even though that sounds so cliché. In the moment, he hadn't been worrying about what they were doing, or what it meant, or what Ignis was thinking. There'd been no doubts, or regrets. He'd simply gone with it, and had enjoyed it. "I'd be... upset, I think," he finally answers slowly. 

Prompto nods like he'd expected such an answer. "So if it did happen again, no talking about it beforehand, what would you feel?" 

Noct sighs, but obediently considers that scenario as well. He'd feel good, of course, but he knows that's not what Prompto means. He thinks about it happening again, much like it did before, and mostly the idea is pleasant, but one thought bothers him. "Happy," he says after some thought, "but I'd want to talk about it with him. You said you and Aranea just kept hooking up, but I don't think I'd be okay with that. Not without knowing if that's what we were doing." 

"So if you talked about it, you'd be okay with it being just sex?" 

Groaning, Noct buries his face in his hands. "I don't know!" He's no good at this kind of thing. He hates even thinking about his emotions, much less talking about them. And he has no experience with any of these situations that Prompto is talking about. He doesn't understand how Prompto could have figured this out about Aranea all on his own, or even knew how to. It makes him feel very immature suddenly, and even more uncomfortably aware of the ten years he'd lost—ten years in which he should have had these experiences just like Prompto, but didn't. Panic builds, and he takes a deep breath, trying not to give in to it. 

"Noct," Prompto says, leaning carefully into him, and though it's not Ignis, the touch is calming, keeping him grounded enough that he doesn't feel like he's going to disconnect from reality at any moment. "It's okay to not know. You don't have to have all the answers immediately. That's why we're talking it out." Prompto sighs. "But honestly, I think you know more than you realise, Noct. You're just scared. But Insomnia's yours now. You don't have to stick with the old traditions." 

Noct takes another deep breath, and then swallows hard. He doesn't know what to say. His head's still all confused. He stays silent. 

"Forget about the sex for a moment. Think about a relationship. Can you picture yourself going on a date with Iggy?" 

Noct can. Really, really easily. Ignis would arrive to pick him up, and he'd be dressed smartly, in a fitted black suit with just a hint of that green button-up shirt that Noct loved peeking out, the one that always used to bring out his eyes so nicely. He'd smile at Noct, making his heart pound, and then ask if Noct was ready to go. The drive would be quiet but content, because they know each other well enough to not need to fill the silence with small talk. They'd get to a really nice restaurant, and Ignis would pull out a chair for him, and Noct would gripe because he's not a girl, but secretly he'd be pleased. 

"Uh, Noct? Eos to Noct, are you there?" 

Noct blinks, the daydream shattering. He flushes slightly, and then clears his throat. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I can picture that." 

"And?" 

After that fantasy, things suddenly seem a lot clearer. He's still confused about some things, and definitely scared, but he has a better idea of what he wants now. Prompto's right about him knowing more than he'd realised. "I think I want it," Noct admits. 

"You want a relationship with Ignis," Prompto says, attempting to clarify. 

Nodding, Noct wraps his arms around his knees. "You're right," he says. "I'm scared. I've never been in a relationship before, I've never let myself like anyone, but Ignis is... I don't know. It feels right, when we're together." He shrugs. "And I don't think I could have sex with someone and not be in a relationship with them. I at least want a _chance_ with him." He breathes out, slowly. "I don't know what Ignis wants though. I don't know if he even likes me that way." 

Prompto raises his eyebrows. "I don't think Iggy would have done anything with you if there wasn't _something_ there," he says. "He doesn't strike me as that kinda guy. And you said he kissed you first, yeah?" 

Noct shrugs. "Yeah." 

"Maybe he's confused or scared too. And knowing him, he's probably also concerned about it being improper, or having taken advantage of you." 

"He didn't." 

"But you haven't talked, so he has no idea what you're thinking either," Prompto points out. "Give him a couple more days of space. If he still hasn't talked to you, you can bring it up yourself—although you might have to leave the room to do so," he adds with a smile. 

Noct makes a face. He doesn't want to leave his room—he's content enough to hide away from the world in here for now. "Maybe," he says, then hesitates before saying, softer, "Thanks." 

"Anytime, dude."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic... is so self-indulgent hahaha. I can't even let Noct and Iggy bone without throwing angst all up in there. I'm sorry. Although I guess this is like Angst Lite compared to the previous chapters.
> 
> But I gotta say, I love all you guys, you make me cry with how sweet you are ;~; I love all your kudos and comments and everything else! I hope you all have a wonderful day~ <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New week, new chapter, new dose of angst. I have Shakespeare class in about two hours and I don't want to go, save me D:

"Cor wanted you to know that so far there haven't any been more attacks by wild beasts."

"Okay." 

"He's amped up patrols and expanded their areas, and issued warnings to the citizens to not stray too far or go anywhere alone at night." 

"Okay." 

"He also has managed to recruit in enough people that they've formed a third scouting group. The beasts are still a problem, but they're slowly making a dent in the populations." 

"Okay," Noct says for the third time, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. After a few more days of Ignis avoiding him, he'd finally made the decision to leave his room and come down to his office, to see if his presence would be enough to get Ignis to talk to him. 

He's been here for the past two days, sitting and not doing a single thing in the way of work, but so far everything Ignis has said has been strictly related to Insomnia. Nothing personal at all. It's worrying Noct, stressing and scaring him, and the world's been a little more distant and hazy for the last hour. 

Ignis disappears into his own office, and Noct stares blankly out the window as tears prick at his eyes. Does Ignis regret their encounter so much? Or does he consider it to have been a one-time thing, something that happened in the heat of the moment but isn't worthy of discussing? He doesn't know, but it's becoming clear to him that Ignis isn't going to say anything either way. If they're going to talk about it, Noct will have to be the one to start the conversation. That scares him as much as not knowing how Ignis feels. 

Mustering his courage, he steels himself and pushes away from his desk, standing and making his way to the connecting doorway between their offices. Ignis has it closed, which stings. He's always kept it open before. Noct swallows, and knocks. "Come in," Ignis' voice says, and Noct can't tell if he's imagining the hesitation he hears. 

Noct opens the door, but then hovers, not quite brave enough to fully step into the room. "Listen, can we talk?" he asks. "About the other night?" 

"There's nothing to talk about," Ignis says, and there's no hesitation this time. "It was simply a mistake on my part. I assure you, it won't happen again." 

The words cut deep. Noct's eyes widen, and he stumbles back into his office, closing the door behind him again without saying a word. He has his answer now. It meant nothing to Ignis—a mistake in the heat of the moment. Ignis doesn't want a relationship, doesn't like him that way, probably regrets what happened— 

It's hard to breathe. His heart's beating fast, so loud in the silence of the room. He feels hot, and weak. He can't breathe. He needs to get out of here. He wants to be back in his room, in his bed, under the blankets where he can shut out the world and the fact that he was a mistake to Ignis and _he can't breathe_ — 

The world doesn't float away from him so much as he floats away from the world, everything fading for awhile, and when he comes back to himself he's not in his office anymore, he's in his room where he wants to be, and he can breathe again. He looks around blankly, and then Ignis' voice says _simply a mistake on my part_ in his head again, and Noct bursts into tears, sobs tearing out of him and violently wracking his frame. He shudders from the force of them, and wraps his arms around himself in a pathetic attempt at a hug. His heart's aching, shredded into tatters, and the pain's a million times worse than anything the Crystal had ever made him feel. 

For a wild moment, he thinks about trying again. Pills didn't work, but maybe he could take a knife to his wrists, slice them wide open, wrists to elbows, and bleed out before anyone managed to find him this time— 

Ignis' face flashes in his mind, tears dripping down his cheek and his fingers tangled in Noct's hair, followed by an image of him curled up on that damn tiny cot, Prompto's voice echoing in his mind. _Well, we tried to make him, but he refused to leave. Think he was scared you might die if he did._

No, he can't do that to Ignis again. No matter how much Ignis hurt him just now, Noct can't cause him any more pain like that. He's resolved to never attempt it again, and he means to stick to that. Still, he looks down at his wrists longingly, at the pale, tender flesh, the blue of his veins peeking through, and imagines for a moment what they'd look like flayed open, blood rushing from the wounds as his life slowly left him. 

It's a morbid, screwed up thought, and when he realises that, he sobs harder and shoves the image out of his mind. 

He cries for a long time, until he simply can't anymore, too worn out and exhausted to manage another single tear. He lays down on his side, curling up in a ball. He hurts—his eyes are puffy and aching, his mouth dry, his throat raw, his chest crushed under the weight of his sorrow. 

When a knock sounds at his door, he wants to yell at whoever it is to go away, but he doesn't have the energy. Instead he curls tighter in on himself as Gladio opens the door, poking his head in. "Hey, uh, Iggy sent me to check on you. Everything okay?" 

"Fine," Noct says hoarsely, wincing at how sore his throat feels. "Go away." 

Gladio doesn't leave. He comes in, the door shutting behind him with a quiet click, and goes around to the side of the bed Noct's on, looking him over. Noct knows it's obvious he's been crying, but he can't bring himself to care. "You dissociating?" Gladio asks. 

"Yeah," Noct says, because he is. It's a curious sensation to lay in the bed and not feel it beneath him, to feel like he's existing only in empty space, but he's so worn out and sad that for once he just doesn't care. 

"You want me to get Iggy?" 

" _No_ ," Noct says, the word immediate and forceful. Gladio raises his eyebrows, and Noct bites down on his lip to keep himself from saying anything else, because he is _not_ talking about this with Gladio. A thought occurs to him then, and he latches onto it, desperate for the distraction. "I never told you about dissociating." 

Gladio grimaces, putting a hand to the back of his neck. "Ah, yeah. Well, Iggy told Prompto and me, after your, after you, uh—" 

"Tried to kill myself," Noct cuts in flatly, saving Gladio from his awkward stammering. "After I swallowed a bunch of pills and chased them with alcohol in a suicide attempt. You can say it, Gladio." 

"Yeah," Gladio agrees, though he still looks uncomfortable. "Iggy told us after that, explained to us what it was while they were working on you. Don't be mad at him, though, Noct. We made him tell us, he wanted to keep your privacy but we forced it out of him." 

"Okay," Noct says tiredly. He doesn't really have much to say to that. He probably should be mad, but it seems so unimportant right now. What does it really matter if Gladio and Prompto know? Before, he hadn't wanted to worry them, but that ship has long sailed now. 

"Noct, you're not—you're not thinking about taking pills or anything again, are you? Should I stay with you?" 

"What pills?" Noct asks flippantly, then sighs. "I'm fine, Gladio, I just want to be alone." 

Gladio hesitates, folding his arms across his chest. "You didn't say no," he points out. "Maybe I shouldn't leave you alone." 

Noct groans. "I'm not going to do anything." 

"You're upset," Gladio says. "You've been crying." 

"I'm not going to try to kill myself every time I'm upset." 

Gladio winces, sparking Noct's rising irritation. He really wants his friends to stop being so uncomfortable and dancing around the words, and just say them. But getting into a fight with Gladio now is too much effort, and won't help get him out of the room any faster. "Look," Noct says. "I promise you that I won't try anything. I only want to sleep. Trust me, Gladio." 

It's Gladio's turn to sigh with irritation. "It's not that I don't trust you, Noct." 

"Yeah?" 

"It's that I _can't_ trust you. Not right now." 

"...What if I text you every half hour?" Noct offers. It's annoying to have to make such a compromise, but the world's swimming further away from him, and he's desperate to be alone. 

"Thought you were gonna sleep," Gladio says, doubtful. 

"Come check on me after I'm asleep, I don't care. Please, Gladio. I want to be alone." Noct's practically begging now, but if that's what it takes... 

"...Fine." Gladio at last heads for the door, pulling it open and then halting. "Every half hour, Noct." 

"Yeah," Noct says, and then the door shuts, and finally, mercifully, he's alone. 

* * *

"Noct?" 

Noct wakes with a start, eyes flying open as he hears Ignis' voice at the door. Ignis knocks, repeating his name, and without really thinking about what he's doing, Noct slips out of the bed as quietly as he can, and slides under it. He feels silly hiding like a small child from Ignis, but he can't face him right now. 

He doesn't dare breathe as he hears Ignis let himself in, still calling his name softly as he approaches the bed. "Noct?" Ignis says louder after a moment, confusion tinging the name this time. Ignis has apparently discovered he's not in the bed. He watches Ignis' shoes as he walks over to the bathroom, discovering the door open and Noct not in there. Ignis pauses, and after a moment, leaves the room. 

Noct gives it another minute, and then comes out, crawling back in his bed and pulling the covers over him, tears slipping down his face. Everything's so messed up. He doesn't like it, and he's scared. He doesn't want things to be weird between him and Ignis. He wants them to be like they were, wants them to be close enough to share a bed and sleep all tangled up in each other and not think anything of it, to be close enough to hold hands in public and not care who sees or what anyone thinks of it, to be close enough that he can break down and cry and all Ignis will do is move to hold him, to comfort him. 

His phone chimes, and he glances at the display. It's Ignis. _where r u_ , it says, and Ignis only forgets about proper grammar and spelling when he's worried. Noct should answer it. Instead, he drops his phone down on the bed and ignores it. 

Not long after that, another knock comes at his door, Prompto's voice softly following after it. "Noct?" 

"Yeah," he says, swiping hastily at his eyes, and Prompto comes in, plopping himself down on the bed. 

"Ignis wanted me to look for you," he says. "He couldn't find you and was worried... Are you crying?" 

"No," Noct says, wiping at his eyes again. It's a futile effort. He rolls over, hiding his face away so that Prompto can't see it. It also means he doesn't have to see Prompto's face, which makes it easier to deal with him being in here. It's still difficult for Noct to look at him and Gladio without falling into the past sometimes, and the two of them have been in here a lot since he was released from the medical wing. 

"Noct... what happened?" 

He wants Prompto to leave. He wants to be left alone, wants his friends to stop checking up on him, to stop _caring_ so much so he can be selfish and not have to feel all this guilt. "Nothing." 

"Is it Ignis?" 

Fuck, why does Prompto have to be so persistent? "He said—he told me I was—that I was 'simply a mistake' on his part," Noct says, and his breath hitches, sobs catching in his throat as his chest tightens. He can still hear Ignis saying those words, and it still shatters his heart into a million tiny shards. 

"A mistake?" Prompto asks, and Noct finds strange comfort in the fact that his tone is a mixture of incredulous and angry. 

"I asked if we could talk. He said there was nothing to talk about, that it was simply a mistake on his part, and then he assured me it wouldn't happen again. I left." His chest is tight, too tight, aching, and he can't breathe again. His head's faint, spinning dizzily, and cold terror sweeps over him as his heart starts racing. He can't breathe. 

"Noct," Prompto says, and his voice comes from far away. It reminds Noct of the time they'd had to fight some daemons in the tunnel on the way to Lestallum, and they'd gotten separated, and Prompto had yelled to him from halfway down the tunnel. It sounds just like that now. "Noct, you gotta breathe slow, buddy." 

Breathe slow, right. He would, if he could just _breathe at all_. 

"Hey, come on, Noct. Focus on me, on my voice. You're having a panic attack. I know it probably feels like you're not breathing, but you're actually breathing too fast." 

Prompto's right. Noct's aware of it now, of the rapid, broken pants gasping out of him and making him feel like he can't get any air. He's trembling, his whole body shivering with panic, and even though he knows he's not going to die from it, he _feels_ like it. He manages to roll over and sit up, to reach out a clammy hand for Prompto, not knowing exactly what he's asking for, but knowing that he needs _something_ — 

Prompto grasps his hand, squeezing firmly, and places his other hand on Noct's back, careful of the old scars, and begins rubbing in small, smoothing circles. "You're okay," he says. "I know it's scary, but you've been through this before. The feelings will pass. Just focus on me and try to breathe slower." 

Noct does, doing his best to calm down, and eventually his breathing does even out as the attack fades, his panic turning into sorrow. "Sorry," he mumbles as he sags back against his pillow, weary exhaustion crawling over him. His hand slips from Prompto's grip. 

"Nothing to be sorry for." 

His eyes slide closed. He's pretty sure their conversation isn't actually over, they haven't really talked about Ignis at all, and he wants to stay up, wants to hear what Prompto has to say about it, but though he struggles against the fatigue, he's unable to keep himself awake. 

"Things will be okay," Prompto says, and it's the last thing Noct hears before he drifts into sleep. 

* * *

Ignis is waiting in a chair beside his bed when Noct wakes. He's not wearing his visor. For one disorienting moment, he's struck with a sense of déjà vu, and then he remembers that this _has_ happened before—when he'd woken up in the medical wing after swallowing the pills. Only this time he hasn't done that, so he's not sure why Ignis is here. "Specs?" he mutters, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. It feels greasy, and he makes a face. He'll have to shower soon. 

"It's been brought to my attention that I've been an idiot," Ignis says, and his tone is so matter of fact that Noct snorts. 

"Yeah? Who was brave enough to do such a thing?" 

Ignis smiles, briefly, one corner of his mouth crooking up before his face smooths out again. "Prompto, as it were. He's actually quite terrifying when he's lecturing someone about how idiotic and insensitive they've been." 

"Oh, Astrals." Noct groans, his stomach twisting into nervous knots. He doesn't even want to imagine the sort of things Prompto might have said to Ignis. He can only hope that his best friend didn't tell him _everything_. 

"Yes, it was certainly an experience," Ignis says, and then pauses. "Noct, you are not a mistake." 

_Oh_. Noct swallows hard at that, feeling tears rimming his eyes as Ignis' words bring all sorts of emotions rushing in. "Why'd you say I was then?" 

Ignis lets out a sigh, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "I was referring merely to the situation. I believed that what we had done was a mistake, not because it was you, but because I didn't believe there was any way in which you could be okay with what happened." 

"You could have _asked me_ ," Noct points out, trying and failing to keep the bitter tone from seeping into his words. "Instead you avoided me..." 

"I am so sorry," Ignis says, his voice full of regret. "I felt that I had overstepped my bounds with you. I was ashamed of my behaviour... and too afraid of your reaction to talk about it." 

"Can we talk about it now?" Noct asks quietly, wiping at his eyes. He's determined not to cry throughout this conversation, no matter where it ends up. 

"I would like that very much." 

"Do you regret it?" Noct asks immediately. Out of everything else, it's the question that he most needs answered. If Ignis doesn't want a relationship, doesn't have feelings for him, doesn't want it to ever happen again... It'll hurt like hell, but Noct can accept all of that, and live with it. What he doesn't want is to be a regret-filled notch on Ignis' bedpost. 

"No. Heavens knows I should, but I don't." 

Noct exhales slowly, taking that in. Ignis doesn't regret it. Ignis doesn't think he's a mistake. "Why not?" 

"Noct... I believe I told you before that I felt very adrift after you disappeared into the Crystal." 

"Yeah..." Noct remembers it well—it had been in that disastrous mistake of a trip to Lestallum. He's not sure what that has to do with their conversation now though. 

"I believed in my heart that you would return again someday, but in the interim I felt lost, and lonely. Up until that point, my life had always been spent by your side. I didn't know what to do with myself once you were gone." 

Guilt slithers in, small tendrils curling up in his stomach and settling heavy. "Iggy..." 

"It was as if I had lost a large piece of me when you disappeared—I felt a huge hole had opened up in my heart," Ignis says, and Noct's breath catches in his throat. "I must admit... I missed you terribly. I never wanted to have anything in my life that I couldn't bear to lose, but when you went into the Crystal, I realised it was too late for that." 

"Ignis... what are you saying?" 

Ignis reaches out, searching, until he has a hold of Noct's hand, holding tight. "No matter what, you will never be a regret, or a mistake. I lost you once, Noct, but I don't dare to lose you again. I simply couldn't bear it. You are everything to me." 

Tears threaten again, but Noct blinks them back. He is _not_ going to cry. "You do like me." The statement feels juvenile, and dumb, more suited to something twelve year old Noct would have said, but in the moment, it's all his brain can come up with. 

"I do, very much so," Ignis says softly. 

The admission makes Noct's stomach flutter, knocking loose some of those tightly-wound tendrils. New ones wriggle in, anxiety replacing the guilt. Ignis likes him, but Noct still has no idea what that means for them, what Ignis wants. "I like you too," he says abruptly, and then flushes, his entire face heating up. He suddenly feels like he's in one of those cheesy high-school rom-coms that Prompto used to make him watch all the time. 

Ignis is silent for a moment. "I rather thought you would be upset about what happened between us," he admits. "It was part of the reason for my poor decision to avoid you." 

Noct sighs. "I was more confused than anything. I _liked_ it, and I didn't regret it, but beyond that I wasn't sure what I felt or what I wanted from it. I had to figure it out." 

"Did you?" 

Noct takes a deep breath. In spite of Ignis' confession, he's still nervous about admitting what he wants. He's too used to bottling up his feelings, and shoving them away when things get hard. "I—I want a relationship with you, Specs. I didn't have ten years to miss you, or realise my feelings for you, but it feels _right_ when I'm with you. I know that's cheesy, and dumb, but—" 

"It's not dumb," Ignis says softly, squeezing his hand. 

Noct squeezes back, appreciating the support, and continues on. "I know I'm all messed up right now, and maybe this isn't the best time, maybe it won't work out, but I wanna try. I want to give us a chance. If—if that's what you want too." 

"I want that chance as well." 

"Why do I feel like there's a 'but' there?" Noct asks, biting down on his lip. The tendrils weave together in one hard knot of anxiety. If Ignis wants a relationship, why does there have to be a 'but' about it? 

Ignis pulls his hand away, making Noct's heart plummet. "I'm not sure that attempting a relationship is the best thing to do." 

"Why not?" 

"Noct... you are the king. Someday you will have to marry a lovely woman to be your queen, and have an heir to continue on your line. There's no place for me in that, not as anything other than your advisor." Ignis' voice is calm, and matter of fact, but Noct looks at him, picking up on the undercurrent of pain. It's in the way he's sitting up too straight in his seat, his body tense, his fists clenched tightly in his lap, his head bowed as if he can't bear to face Noct despite his lack of sight. 

"Says who?" Noct demands. "Iggy, Insomnia fell ten years ago. The world was in darkness. Everyone was lucky just to _survive_. The old traditions don't have to apply anymore, not if we don't want them to. You just said yourself, I'm the king. I can do as I wish." 

"You still have the citizens to think about, and your image in the public eye—" 

"I saved all of Eos. I could probably get away with anything right now. Hell, I could probably marry a chocobo and they'd still all just be grateful." 

Ignis snorts and lifts his head, a small smile gracing his face. "I wouldn't recommend doing so." 

"Yeah," Noct agrees. "That's more Prompto's thing anyway." 

Ignis laughs outright then, making Noct's heart skip a beat. How could he ever have been confused about his feelings? "He does have an unusually extreme fondness for chocobos," Ignis remarks. 

"Yeah," Noct says again. "Ignis... I don't want to marry some woman to be my queen. When I was supposed to marry Luna, I was okay with it because she was my friend, but it was never what I _wanted_. And if she were here now, she'd tell me to go with what makes me happy. Right now, that's you." 

"And what of an heir? If you've failed to notice, I lack the proper equipment to bear you a child that will carry on the Lucis Caelum name," Ignis points out, his tone only slightly sardonic, and he's so pragmatic and proper and Noct _hates_ it sometimes. He doesn't want to discuss this now. He just wants Ignis to be happy and agree and let them figure the rest out later. 

"I'm sure there are other ways. Or maybe I won't continue it—maybe it's time for the Lucis Caelum line to end." 

"What are you talking about?" Ignis sounds stricken, and Noct winces. He's not sure why he'd mentioned that, it's barely been an idea in his own head, and not one he'd intended to bring up anytime soon. 

"It's just... the Crystal's caused my family so much pain. And we've been manipulated by the Astrals for so long, all the way back to _Ardyn_. Maybe it's time for it to be someone else's turn for a change. I don't know yet. But it's always an option. The point is that there _are_ options, that I don't have to be bound by tradition." 

"I see you've given this some thought." 

Noct lets out a small huff of laughter. "Not as much as you'd think." 

Ignis frowns, hesitating, his mouth attempting words that for a moment don't come. "Noct, even if we were to eschew tradition and public image, there are still other concerns," he finally says. 

"Like what?" 

"You're not in a good place right now," Ignis says carefully. "I don't fault you for this, anyone in your place would be struggling, I believe, but I do worry that perhaps you're not yet ready to deal with all the stresses a relationship can bring." 

"I'm fine, I can handle it," Noct says instantly. He knows that's not entirely true, he's definitely _not_ fine, but he may never be fine again, and he doesn't want to deny himself the little bit of happiness he's managed to find. 

"You were very upset before I kissed you." 

"Yeah, what was that about anyway? It seemed like weird timing. Not that I'm complaining." 

"Ah, well. I suppose it was actually rather an inappropriate time for me to kiss you, but in the moment I wished merely for you to know that you are _not_ a terrible person, and you were not listening to my words," Ignis says, and Noct's amused to note the tips of his ears are turning red. 

"So you thought kissing me would help?" 

Ignis is practically squirming in embarrassment now. It's almost fascinating to watch. "My apologies. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Regardless," he continues hastily, "it may be a better idea for you to focus on getting better before we consider a relationship." 

"Specs, no," Noct says, the words quickly sobering him again. "I don't want to wait for some magical 'maybe' future, where _maybe_ I'm better, and _maybe_ we still like each other enough to try a relationship." 

"Noct—" 

"When I was confused, Prompto made me imagine different scenarios of things that could happen," Noct says, feeling a light blush sweeping across his cheeks. He hadn't meant to ever admit this part, but what has he got to lose now? "The ones where we weren't together made me feel... empty, and hollow." He pauses. "I already feel empty and hollow enough. If we both want this, why can't we just try it and work it out as we go? What's so—" 

Ignis cuts him off with a softly uttered, "Noct." 

"Yeah?" Noct asks, but Ignis says nothing, merely abandoning his chair to climb on the bed, straddling Noct, his hands reaching for Noct's face, grasping it before he presses his mouth to Noct's. It lands wrong, halfway off his mouth, but he quickly corrects himself and then kisses Noct, hard, pressing him down into the pillows, sucking at his lower lip. 

Noct can't help but moan against Ignis' mouth before he eventually pulls back, cheeks flushed, eyes half-lidded, feeling a bit dazed but more sure than ever that this is _right_. "Is that a yes?" he asks, somewhat breathlessly. 

Ignis laughs quietly, tilting his head down and touching their foreheads together. "Yes." 

Noct grins, and pulls him down into another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That final conversation between Noct and Iggy took me TWO DAYS to write. It was so hard D: I deleted and rewrote whole chunks of it four or five times, and then resorted to writing bare-bones dialogue in a lot of places and adding in the rest later, because that was the only way I could get it out. And I _still_ feel like I could make it better. Sigh. XD
> 
> Also, [this crappy phone pic](http://fayth.altervista.org/noesis/SUFFERING.jpg) is for :). It's been there the past week :D
> 
> And, of course, I thank you all for the comments and kudos last week, they were so sweet ;^; You guys are the best.
> 
> This chapter now has an accompanying side scene [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17033568/chapters/40908713).


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves, there's practically no angst in this chapter. It's appalling, I know. What WAS I thinking? ;D (It'll come back eventually, though, and it'll huuuuurt, no worries!)

Noct's happy.

It feels weird, waking up with a smile on his face and warm, excited feelings in his chest—he can't remember the last time he's truly done so. And even now, he's still aware of depression and self-hatred lurking in the background, ready to approach and take over at any moment, but it's easy enough to shove them away and focus on the good feelings. 

He's in a relationship with Ignis. It feels so surreal and unbelievable, and yet really, really good at the same time. It's a little embarrassing too, because he feels that in a way he and Ignis have already been in a relationship for a while, they just didn't realise it. Or at least Noct didn't. 

But they've been so close since Noct's come back from the Crystal... Ignis is _always_ the first person that Noct always wants to turn to, when he's upset or something's gone wrong. And there's the fact that they're often holding hands, or sharing a bed and getting tangled up with each other, or cuddling together... Noct doesn't have a lot of experience, true, but he really should have clued in sooner. 

Perhaps he had, in a way—he _had_ noted the change in their relationship, and that it maybe wasn't a normal friendship, or a way that either of them behaved with their other friends—but he'd obliviously dismissed it. Or rather, subconsciously buried it and refused to consider what it might mean, simply because he was scared. 

And he still is, really—his only idea of relationships comes from movies and watching his classmates fumble awkwardly around with each other in high school. He has no idea what to do in one. Nor does he have any idea where he wants this to go. He doesn't know if there's a future in this, or how deep his feelings for Ignis really run. He's terrified he's going to fuck this up eventually, or that Ignis is going to decide he's not worth it and take it all back. But perhaps it's enough for now that he's happy to be with Ignis, and willing to figure it all out as they go along. 

He smiles to himself, burying his head even closer to Ignis' chest, listening to the slow and steady beat of Ignis' heart as he sleeps. Ignis murmurs something sleepily, curling an arm protectively around him. Noct knows he's still screwed up, still dealing with so many confusing emotions, still struggling with the fact that part of him likes the idea of not being alive anymore... but the little moments, the ones like this one right now, make him think that there's still a reason worth living for. 

Ignis murmurs again, then yawns as he slowly wakes. "Good morning," he says, his voice still thick with sleep. 

"Morning," Noct mumbles into his chest, content to stay right where he is until Ignis is ready to get up. 

Unfortunately, his stomach has a different idea, suddenly rumbling loudly into the quiet morning. "Hungry?" Ignis asks after a pause, amusement colouring his tone, and Noct feels his face prickle with embarrassment. 

"Didn't eat yesterday," he admits. 

"Perhaps breakfast is in order, then." 

"Mmm. Shower first," Noct says, because he feels even more gross than yesterday. 

"Yes, my nose would certainly appreciate that," Ignis responds dryly. 

"Hey!" Noct pulls away, pouting, so he can poke Ignis in the chest. "I don't smell that bad." 

Ignis smiles, scooting up to prop himself against the pillows. "I suppose there were times that were worse than this." 

Noct snorts. That's definitely an understatement. "Remember that time Prompto shot that killer wasp and it exploded and got its guts all over me? I swear the smell didn't leave me for _days_." 

Shaking his head, Ignis wrinkles his nose at the memory. "I had rather hoped to forget that, actually," he says. 

"I'm still surprised you guys let me sleep in the tent that first night." 

"Had you not been the prince, we might not have," Ignis teases. 

Noct pokes him again, before throwing back his blankets and swinging his feet over the side of the bed. "Rude," he says with a haughty sniff, and Ignis laughs. Noct grins and heads to the bathroom. 

When he emerges nearly forty-five minutes later, he has to admit he feels a lot better. His hair's washed and dried, he's dressed in clean clothes, he's brushed his teeth... he thinks with a wince of the few kisses he and Ignis had traded last night, and hopes he hadn't been _too_ gross. He's going to have to start making more of an effort to take care of himself. 

His stomach growls again then, reminding him that he's barely eaten for days. Well, food can be the next thing to take care of. "Breakfast now?" Noct asks hopefully. 

"We can go down whenever you like," Ignis tells him. 

Noct swallows. "Can't you just bring us some food here?" he asks. He hasn't spent a lot of time around other people since he swallowed those pills, and he's not sure he's ready to yet. Prompto had told him that the only other person who knows what happened is Cor, but he feels like people will be able to look at him and just _know_ , no matter how ridiculous that thought is. 

"Of course," Ignis says easily, finally moving to get out of bed himself. "I had thought you might prefer a change of scene, but eating here will work just as well." 

A change of scene. Noct knows that's Ignis-speak for _You've spent far too much time holed up in your room, and I'm worried about you_ , but he doesn't call Ignis out on it. "Thanks," he says instead, and sits himself down cross-legged on his bed as Ignis begins to head out of the room. 

Noct browses idly on his phone while he waits. Ignis stays gone for awhile, and Noct shoves down the irrational spark of fear that says Ignis isn't going to come back, that he was lying to Noct about everything. There's no reason for Ignis to have lied, and no reason for him to avoid Noct anymore. 

When Ignis does at last return, Noct can see he's taken the time to shower and change into fresh clothes. All blacks and dark greys, as befitting a Crownsguard, but Noct suspects it's also so that Ignis never has to worry about mismatching something. The thought brings him a pang of sadness, because Ignis used to always take the chance to sneak hints of complementing colour here and there into his outfits. 

Ignis hands him both of plates of food, and then settles himself into the bed next to Noct. Noct gives him one of the plates back, and then deliberately scoots so his knee is brushing against Ignis' leg. They begin to eat, the first few bites giving Noct more of an idea why Ignis was gone so long. "This is your cooking, isn't it?" 

"It is. Breakfast was already gone by the time I made it down." 

"It's good," Noct says, leaning his shoulder into Ignis' arm for a moment. "I've missed your cooking." 

"I'm afraid it's nothing fancy," Ignis says, but Noct can hear the pleased note to his tone. 

After that they eat quietly, Noct flying through his plate of food far faster than Ignis. He's not sure how long it will last, but he's glad to have his appetite back. "Specs... are we telling other people?" The question's been on his mind since waking, and now seems as good a time as any to bring it up. 

"About us, you mean?" Ignis asks. 

Noct nods, before remembering he needs to speak. "Yeah." 

"I would not be opposed to people knowing," Ignis says slowly, and it's clear to Noct he's thinking through his words, picking the best way to phrase them. It makes him nervous, wondering if he's not going to like the answer. "Prompto and Gladio, for example, and even the Marshal, if you wish to tell any of them directly. Beyond that, I do not see the need to actively hide our relationship, and yet nor do I see a reason to deliberately announce it publicly at this time." 

Cynically, Noct wonders if that's because of diplomacy, or because Ignis doesn't think they'll last, given the concerns he'd voiced last night. This seems like the wrong time to worry about it, though, so he pushes the thought away. "Prompto already kinda knows," he says instead. 

"Yes, I was made rather aware of that when he came to yell at me," Ignis says wryly. "I hope in the future you will at least keep the details of our sex life private." 

Noct's face heats up, even as his stomach flips in nervous excitement at having a sex life with Ignis. "I didn't give him the details, exactly... He kinda guessed... Though I guess I gave him enough information to guess right. Sorry." 

"I am not angry, merely... embarrassed," Ignis admits, and Noct feels better about his own embarrassment when he sees the blush spreading across Ignis' face. 

Noct takes Ignis' now empty plate and stacks it on top of his own. "I'll tell him not to bring up the details to you from now on," Noct promises him. He's teasing, of course—he has no desire to share every detail with Prompto, and Prompto probably has no desire to hear it, but it's cute to watch the way Ignis' nose wrinkles when he's displeased. 

"Why does that not reassure me?" Ignis sighs, and Noct grins. Ignis grabs their plates then, pulling away from Noct reluctantly as he gets off the bed. "Unfortunately, I have some paperwork I need to deal with. Can I trust you to be alone today?" 

"Yeah," Noct says, ignoring the vicious twinge of guilt in his chest. "I swear, Iggy, I won't do anything." 

"Very well. Text me if you have need of me." Ignis leans down then, and Noct meets him before Ignis has to try and find him, pressing their lips together in a hard kiss that leaves Noct feeling dazed and breathless when he pulls back. 

Ignis leaves then, and Noct stares at the door after he's gone. 

This is _real_. Even after talking about it, he's been half-convinced he's just been having some super realistic dream, or that maybe Ignis would change his mind and take it all back, but no. It's real—he and Ignis are really trying a relationship. 

Suddenly he finds that for the first time in weeks, he doesn't want to hole up in his room or hide away from everybody. He's in a fantastic mood, flying high and feeling motivated, and he wants to move around, to _do_ something and work off some of this energy. 

Snatching up his phone, he pulls up the messaging app, bringing up his messages with Gladio. _Hey can we start sparring again?_

_Uh, sure. You up for having your ass kicked?_

_As if, big guy. You free now?_

_Patrol. Meet you in the training room in an hour?_

_You're on._

Noct absently slides his phone into his pocket, and tries to figure out what to do for the next hour. He _should_ go to his office, see what work Ignis is doing and offer him some help, but he's not ready to face being a king again yet. He's already failed so badly, he doesn't want to further screw it up... It's not fair of him to put all of his work on Ignis, but Noct can't handle it right now. Even the thought of sitting in his office and doing nothing makes his stomach clench painfully. 

Eventually, not having any clear goal in mind, he leaves his room and starts walking, wandering aimlessly around the Citadel. He hasn't paid much attention lately to all the areas that have been rebuilt, but he's impressed with all the progress he's seeing now—it's come far in the four months since they've been back. Not everything's functional still, of course, but a lot of the rooms that were damaged either in the attack or over the years look good as new, on par with his memories as he'd seen it the last time he'd been in Insomnia before the fall. 

He doesn't realise he's wandered near the throne room until he's in the hallway leading to it, and when he recognises the area he freezes. He knows the room has been repaired—it had been the one that sustained the most damage, and the first place people had gravitated towards fixing, but Noct's not seen the room since— 

A strong spike of fear runs through him, nausea rising up to burn his throat, and he turns away urgently, stumbling back down the hall to the elevators again, haphazardly pressing buttons when he gets in, the echoes of swords ringing in his ears and phantom pain rattling in his chest. He gets back off on the first floor the doors open to, dashing halfway down the hall before he takes the time to stop and figure out where he is. 

Where he is turns out to be the wing of the Citadel that houses his dad's old bedroom suite, along with Clarus' for when he needed to stay, and suites for some of the other higher-ups that used to live or frequently stay here. Looking at it, Noct can tell no one's really touched this part of the Citadel yet, but it's an area that escaped damage in the attack, so it doesn't need much more than a thorough cleaning and maybe a fresh coat of paint. 

He doesn't stop in his dad's rooms, telling himself he doesn't have the time, but he peeks into some of the other rooms, assessing how much work would need to be done for them. It's not much. He could easily get them livable for his friends, so they could all move up here. Even if they all decide to move outside of the Citadel eventually, it would be good for them to always have their own rooms within it. 

His phone beeps with the alarm he'd set, letting him know it's time to go meet Gladio. Turning it off, he heads back to the elevators, making a mental note to come back and start cleaning this wing up. 

* * *

"What's with you?" 

Noct glances up at Gladio, wiping his forehead. "What do you mean?" He'd sparred well, keeping his mind focused and mostly in the present, so he's not sure what Gladio's on about. There'd been a few moments, a few scary flashes back to the past, but he'd been able to shove them away without getting lost or dissociating, and he doesn't think they were noticeable, so he can't think what else he would have done to warrant the question. 

"Didn't expect you to be in a good mood for awhile," Gladio answers, scratching his head as he frowns at Noct, and oh, yeah, okay, Noct can get that, considering he'd obviously been crying his eyes out the last time Gladio had seen him. 

He takes a swig of water and tries to figure out how to respond. Ignis had said he was fine with their friends knowing, and Noct doesn't mind either, but he has no clue how Gladio will react to the news, and whether he should ease him into it. "Ignis and I are dating," he finally admits, deciding it's just best to be direct. 

Gladio raises his eyebrow and takes a seat next to him on the bench. "Yeah? Since when?" 

"Last night." 

"This got something to do with you being upset the last few days?" 

Noct really doesn't want to get into the details again. "I misunderstood something he said, but we worked it out." 

"So you two talked about this then? You both want this? You both happy? Considered all the ramifications?" Gladio asks as he begins messing with his hair, fixing his ponytail, which had fallen into disarray during their spars. 

Noct scowls, both from the reminder that Gladio's older and different, and from his words. "Yeah," he says, folding his arms across his chest and pointedly looking away, taking Gladio out of his view. "What's with the third degree?" 

Gladio slings an arm around Noct's shoulders, pulling him in close. "Just looking out for my favourite king," he teases, reaching out to tousle Noct's hair, like he would a small child. "Ya know, the whole 'he hurts you, I hurt him' talk and all. I also got a safe sex one if you need that." 

"Get _off_ ," Noct grumbles as he flushes, ducking away to escape. "Why did I even tell you..." 

Laughing, Gladio stands, and chugs half of his own bottle of water before he looks back down at Noct, all traces of amusement now gone from his face. "Hey, I'm happy for you," he says. "But I'm worried too. You're not well, and I don't want you to go thinking this relationship with Iggy will fix all your problems." 

"I'll be fine," Noct says dismissively. 

"Yeah? I don't need to worry about checking on you and finding you nearly unconscious again?" 

"Nope," Noct says, deliberately casual. Gladio's still edging around being direct, and it's still irritating. "No more suicide attempts." Gladio flinches slightly, and Noct ignores the flicker of guilt. "You don't need to keep checking up on me, either," he adds. 

"Honestly Noct, I've been thinking I should be by your side more, as your Shield," Gladio says with a frown. 

Noct shakes his head. "Ignis trusted me to be alone today," he says. "I'll be fine. I want you with the Crownsguard still, they need you more. I don't want anybody else to die." 

"Fine," Gladio agrees, but it's clear to Noct that he's not happy about it. As long as Gladio is making an effort to trust him again, though, Noct doesn't care whether he likes it or not. They can't watch over him forever. And he _will_ be fine. He has Ignis now, after all, and no matter what Gladio says, that's enough. 

* * *

Noct spends the next few days still avoiding his office—and paperwork, which is the real avoidance—and throws himself into cleaning some of the suites in his dad's wing of the Citadel. While he cleans, his thoughts drift to his new relationship. 

They haven't been on an actual date yet, but Noct figures it's only a matter of time, and he wants to be the one to ask Ignis first. Even though it's not a competition, he doesn't want to sit passively back and make Ignis be in charge of their relationship, the way Noct's always done with everything else in his life. If he can ask Ignis to do something first, he'll feel more like an equal. 

Now if only he could figure out _what_ to do. With no experience of his own, all that's coming to mind is hearing about Prompto's few awkward dates in high school, and overhearing some of his classmates gush about theirs. And none of those are really helpful. There aren't any restaurants or museums or movie theatres in Insomnia now for them to go to. Nor any sort of clubs or bars, though that's probably not Ignis' ideal date anyway. 

Although, Ignis had gone to a club a few times with Gladio, when they were younger, and the four of them had gone out a couple of times once he and Prompto had been of age, and Ignis hadn't seemed to hate it, at least... Either way, it's a moot point, because there's nothing like that in the city at the moment. 

But that leaves him at a loss, because what else do people _do_ on dates? 

Three hours later, Noct's made good progress on the room he's cleaning, but absolutely none on coming up with a date. Sighing, he looks at his phone and sees that it's lunchtime. Perfect excuse to take a break and seek out Prompto. 

"A date?" Prompto says, pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth. "Dude, does this mean you and Iggy—" 

"Shh," Noct says, glancing around. They're at a table in the far corner, away from everyone else, because Noct's still uncomfortable being around others, but he knows Prompto can get loud and he doesn't want anyone overhearing. "Yes, Ignis and I are dating. Or we will be, if I knew what to do..." 

"So you're _not_ together?" 

Noct shakes his head. "We are. We just haven't gone on a date yet, and usually... he's always the one taking care of me, you know?" He swallows, looking away briefly as his face heats up. "I just wanted to do something nice for him before he feels the need to do everything." 

Prompto finally takes that bite of his food, looking thoughtful while he chews. "What about a twist on the classic?" he suggests. "You could cook dinner for him, and watch a movie together in your room." 

"Prompto, he's _blind_ ," Noct points out, not sure how Prompto could forget that. He's had ten years with that fact, after all, unlike Noct. 

"Duh," Prompto says, rolling his eyes. "They have this thing called audio description, it narrates the visual parts of movies so blind people can follow along. I've seen Iggy make use of it before, when he was living in Lestallum. I could help you with it." 

Noct takes a moment to muse on that. It doesn't sound like it'd be all that great to him, but if Ignis has used it before, then maybe it's something he enjoys...? Noct's fast coming to realise that he's clueless about anything Ignis might enjoy these days. Ignis has been so busy dealing with Insomnia, and Noct, that there hasn't been much time to relax and do things just for fun. 

"Okay, but this is _me_ we're talking about, Prompto. I can barely manage to cook a frozen pizza." It's an exaggeration, but only just. 

"Hmm, true... Oh, I know!" Prompto's fork accidentally drops to his plate with an excited clatter, making a few people look in their direction, and Noct winces. "Sorry, but dude! I could teach you!" 

Blinking a few times, Noct raises his eyebrows at Prompto. "Since when did you know how to cook?" 

"Uh... since high school at least? It's not like my parents were ever home much to cook for me." Prompto grins at him, eyes shining eagerly. "Come on, Noct, it'll be fun!" 

Despite himself, Prompto's enthusiasm is infectious, and Noct finds himself smiling back at his best friend. He's still not sure this will work, but what else has he got? "Okay," he says. "Let's do it." 

"Great! We can do it tomorrow for dinner, if you want?" 

"Yeah. Can't wait," Noct says, and he's surprised to find he means it. 

* * *

"Okay!" Prompto claps his hands together, looking at everything spread out on the large island counter in front of them, bouncing on his feet in excitement. They're alone in the Citadel's main kitchens, which have been repaired but no one has yet bothered to use, not quite needing that much space. "First thing you wanna do when cooking is make sure you have everything! Trust me, you do not want to get halfway through a recipe and then realise you're out of something important. It ruins the whole meal if you don't have a substitute!" 

"Yeah." Noct nods in agreement, then pauses. "Uh, so what are we making?" 

"Oh!" Prompto lets out a small, sheepish laugh. "Uh, well, Iggy likes a lot of seafood dishes, but they're a little difficult, so we're gonna go with an easier favourite of his: a breaded anak cutlet with a tomato sauce on top of some pasta, and a fresh garden salad on the side." 

Noct makes a face at the mention of salad, but doesn't remark on it. For Ignis, he can choke it down at least once. "How do you know what his favourites are?" he asks instead. 

Prompto stills, and looks away from Noct, staring down at the counter. Noct finds the sudden change in behaviour disconcerting, and gets the feeling he shouldn't have asked. "The first few months after you disappeared, when we were all still in Lestallum together, I had to cook for him, because he couldn't... I learned what he liked best because he'd actually take more than a couple bites of those meals." 

Swallowing, Noct pushes away the unexpected pang of grief, and pokes at the package of anak meat, wanting a distraction. "So we have everything we need then?" 

"Yep!" Prompto takes the subject change gratefully. "Next up is prepping our ingredients in advance..." 

Noct listens as he begins to explain, doing his best to take in all that his best friend's trying to teach him, but it's a lot. Prompto's saying something about cooking order, and timing your food so it all comes out at the same time, and Noct had no idea it could be so complicated. Ignis always used to make it look so easy. 

Eventually Prompto moves on to the actual prep, showing Noct how to peel and mince a clove of garlic. Noct does his best to imitate the actions, but it takes him twice as long as Prompto to get the thin, papery skin off, and his garlic doesn't look so much minced as just... destroyed. "I ruined it," he sighs, preparing to shove the whole mess into the trash. 

"Hey, no!" Prompto cries, rescuing the cutting board from him. "It's fine, Noct. It doesn't have to be perfect." 

Noct looks at him doubtfully, then glances back to his garlic and shrugs. "Okay then, what next?" 

"We're going to strip oregano," Prompto says with a grin. 

"Kinky." 

Prompto laughs, grabbing a few stalks of the herb, and shows him how to strip the leaves off the stem easily. He makes it look simple enough, but when Noct does it, half his leaves stay on, the stems snapping instead. He groans. "This is hopeless. Why do we have to use fresh herbs anyway?" 

"Because Ignis will appreciate the difference in taste, and you want to make him haa~aappy," Prompto teases, turning the last word into a sing-song as he wiggles the fingers on one hand at Noct. "Come on, buddy, I have faith in you!" Noct groans again, but tries a second time, finally managing to get at least the majority of his leaves off. 

"Good job!" Prompto cheers, and Noct tosses the stem at him, smirking when it catches in Prompto's hair. "Noct! Not the hair!" 

Noct laughs at the face Prompto makes while he frantically bats at his hair, looking for the stem to pull it out. He's surprised to find that he's having fun. It feels almost... alien, a sensation that's no longer familiar after months of stress and depression and grief. There'd been moments of fun on the trip around Lucis, here and there, but after Altissia, after Leviathan and Luna and everything else that went down that day— 

No, he's not going to think about it now. He's having fun, he's in a good mood, he's goofing around with Prompto without tripping out over his best friend's appearance... he's not going to let anything ruin that right now. It's the closest he's felt to normal in who knows how long. 

"Here," he says, finally taking pity on Prompto and untangling the stem from his hair. "Come on, now what?" 

Prompto huffs, throwing the stem away as he glowers at Noct. "Now we chop some basil. And no throwing it in my hair!" 

Noct does his best to look innocent. "Who would do something like that?" 

Prompto rolls his eyes, grabbing a handful of basil for each of them and laying it on their cutting boards. "I wonder..." 

"I'll be good," Noct promises with a grin, though he can't resist gently placing a thinly cut strip of basil on top of Prompto's head when he's not looking. He can't help but snicker at the sight, causing Prompto to turn back and eye him. 

"What have you done?" he asks, and the suspicion in his tone makes Noct snicker again. He doesn't answer, shaking his head, and after another minute of the hairy eyeball Prompto sighs and continues on with the lesson. 

By the time Prompto's pulling the anak out of the oven, the meal finished, they're both a mess. Their clothes are covered in a sludgy mix of flour, egg, breadcrumbs, and tomato sauce, and there's several more strips of basil and some oregano sprinkled atop Prompto's head. Noct's also pretty sure his fingers are going to permanently smell like onion and garlic from now on. 

He moves toward the oven, the floor beneath him crunching as he steps on several leaves of lettuce that were a causality in the impromptu salad war. "Smells good," he says, peering down at the casserole dish. 

"Let's hope it tastes good!" Prompto moves to get some plates, scrunching up his face as he accidentally steps on a tomato, its insides squishing out around his shoe. He shakes his head, a few leaves of basil dislodging and drifting down to his shoulders. "Noct, how are you so messy while cooking?" he complains. "You didn't have to keep throwing everything at me!" 

Smirking, Noct shrugs his shoulders at him, unrepentant. "Admit it, you had more fun this way," he says, poking Prompto in his side. 

"Nope, no way! Not me!" 

"Uh-huh. I really believe that one, Prompto." 

Prompto shoves a plate at him, jamming it into his chest with a grin. "Here. Just don't throw them!" 

"Hey, I'm not that bad..." Noct says, pouting at him as he piles some pasta on the plate. 

When he takes the first bite, he braces himself, expecting it to be horrible somehow, but he's surprised to find that it _is_ good, the savoury taste of the sauce and anak meat exploding pleasantly on his tongue. It's not as amazing as Ignis' cooking, of course, but if he can replicate this recipe, he can serve it to Ignis without fear of poisoning him, or having him hate it. "Hey, uh, thanks. You know, for the help," he says awkwardly after another few bites. 

"No problem! It's kinda nice, you know." 

"What?" 

"Hanging out like this, like we used to. It feels like ages since we have," Prompto says. He's looking down at his plate blankly, a sad, faraway expression on his face, and it makes Noct's stomach tighten painfully. Then Prompto looks up, smiling at him, in the manner that's always screamed 'I'm covering up some insecurity or sadness!' Noct always used to see in him. "We should hang out again soon!" 

"Yeah," Noct says around the lump in his throat. Guilt's curdling in his gut again, and he doesn't like it. It's been of his own doing, not spending time with Prompto, but this afternoon has made him realise how much he misses his best friend. He's not sure how well it will work out, but he resolves to try and spend more time with Prompto in the future. "Yeah," he says again. "We'll hang out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sleepy. I'm also stuck on trying to write some smut in chapter twelve. I haaaaaate writing smut, so much, you guys have no idea. I don't know why I do this to myself.
> 
> Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed! Thanks as always for all the kudos and comments and such last time <3 I've been struggling with crap lately, to be honest, and seeing/reading them always cheers me up. I hope everyone has a good week!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this at an odd hour (for me) because why the fuck not? ;D I have homework I should attempt tomorrow so I don't want this to distract me.
> 
> To be honest, I'm not really happy with this chapter, but I can't pinpoint why. I know, I should be confident in my writing, and overall I _am_ , but this chapter just isn't working for me. Hopefully it'll work better for you guys, because I've edited it to death and can't figure out how to fix it to where I like it.
> 
> Also, fair warning, this chapter is half smut, though not entirely for the sake of just being smut.

Five steps to the table.

Stop. 

Spin. 

Five steps to the bed. 

Stop. 

Spin. 

Five steps to the table. 

Stop. 

Adjust a fork. 

Spin. 

Five steps to the bed. 

Stop. 

Stop. 

Okay, he's being ridiculous. Noct knows he is. There's no reason to be nervous; it's just Ignis. The two of them have spent time together a hundred thousand times before. There's nothing different about this time. Well, except that _this_ time Ignis is now his—what? Boyfriend? Lover? Something more than just an advisor and friend now, anyway. 

Oh, and Noct's never cooked a meal for him before. And he has no idea if Ignis will really appreciate listening to a movie he can't see, even if Noct _did_ get Prompto to bring it back special all the way from Lestallum. 

This is a bad idea. He feels stupid suddenly, like some infatuated and clueless teenager. Why did he ever think he could plan some kind of date for them? He's terrible at this stuff. He should text Ignis now, tell him never mind about joining him for dinner— 

A knock sounds at his door. 

"Damn," Noct whispers to himself, and then breathes deep, exhaling slowly. No. It's only dinner. And even if it goes badly, surely Ignis will appreciate the fact that Noct tried. One more deep breath, and he goes to let Ignis in. 

"Hey," he says as Ignis steps in, shutting the door behind him, and then winces as Ignis takes a few steps and bumps into one of the chairs Gladio had helped him bring in. "Uh, sorry, there's a table and two chairs here now..." Great, he's already messing up. He knows by now to warn Ignis of any furniture changes, he should have said something immediately. 

"I've noticed that, Noct, thank you," Ignis says dryly. 

"You can sit. If you want. Dinner's there. At the table I mean." Noct flushes as he forces himself to stop talking, feeling more and more like an idiot. 

"You're unusually nervous," Ignis observes as he feels his way into the chair. 

"Yeah," Noct admits, settling into his own chair. 

"This smells wonderful." 

"It's breaded anak cutlet. With pasta, and tomato sauce. Meat's at... six o' clock, pasta at twelve. There's salad in a bowl at ten." Prompto had warned him, when they were cooking, that he'd need to arrange the food and let Ignis know where it was. Noct had never even given it consideration before, but when he thinks back on it, he can remember the cooks murmuring to Ignis whenever he'd get plated food from them. 

Noct ignores his own food, waiting anxiously for Ignis to take a bite. He'd done his best to cook it the same way he and Prompto had done the other day, carefully following the recipe Prompto had written down for him. He'd had to start over once, throwing away the wasted food with a twinge of guilt, but when he'd finally got it right, the end result _looked_ okay... 

"This is quite delicious," Ignis says warmly, and Noct relaxes, though he doesn't miss the hint of surprise in Ignis' tone as well. "Better than what the kitchen staff are capable of... Did Prompto make this?" 

It's a fair assumption. Still, it makes Noct scowl. "No," he says. "Well, he showed me how the other day. But I did this myself." 

"My apologies," Ignis offers. "I must say, I'm impressed. Perhaps there's hope for you in the kitchen after all." 

Noct rolls his eyes at the teasing, though he's pleased with the praise, his stomach fluttering happily. "Don't get too excited. My first attempt involved a gummy lump instead of pasta and black charcoal instead of meat," he admits. 

Ignis laughs softly. "Then I'll hold off on expecting any full course meals just yet." 

They eat quietly after that, Noct relaxing even more as nothing goes wrong. Conversation is tricky, having to navigate around all the topics that might set Noct off, but they manage. It's only when dinner's nearly finished that Noct begins to get nervous again. He's worried that Ignis is going to think his movie is a terrible idea—or worse, get upset that Noct would even suggest it. 

"So, if you're free still, I have this movie," Noct starts. His food's sitting leaden in his stomach all of a sudden, and he wishes he'd brought this up before eating. He watches Ignis' face twist briefly in confusion, and swallows down the anxiety that's rising in his throat. 

"I thought maybe we could watch it together," he continues. "I know you can't really _watch_ it, but Prompto told me about that audio description thing you used, and I made sure it has it, and it works, and we'd have to watch it on the bed since a couch wouldn't fit... You don't have to, though, if you don't want. I know it's not really the same, or might not be as fun, but Prompto said you've done it before—" 

"I'd like that very much," Ignis says with a smile, cutting off his rambling. 

"Yeah, okay." Noct stacks their dirty dishes to deal with later, and then they situate themselves on the bed, propping pillows up on the headboard and reclining against them to face the tv Gladio had also helped bring in earlier. Noct gets the movie started, and then reaches down and carefully grabs Ignis' hand, entwining their fingers together. 

"You sure you don't mind, Specs?" he asks, while the title sequence begins to play. "Because really, if you don't want—" 

"Noct," Ignis says firmly, and waits for him to fall silent. "This is a lovely first date. I have no complaints about any of it." 

Noct's face heats up with embarrassment, prickling uncomfortably. He'd deliberately avoided phrasing his earlier request to Ignis as a date—admittedly in case he needed an out, but still. He hadn't wanted to let on how big of a deal this really is to him. Trust Ignis to know anyway. 

"I didn't know what else to do," he finally says. "There's not anywhere for us to go _out_ to. And I didn't want to make you have to plan everything..." 

Ignis squeezes his hand. "This is perfect, Noct. I couldn't think of a better way to spend an evening." 

Noct squeezes back, biting down on his lip to keep from saying anything more. He's still a little worried, but if Ignis says he's fine with it, then Noct can accept it. He stays quiet as the movie plays, so that Ignis can follow along with it. The visual narration is interesting, but also distracting, and Noct quickly finds that he can't follow along with the movie as much as he'd like. 

He doesn't really mind, though. He's with Ignis, they're together, the night went well, and all of his problems and bad emotions seem like a far off dream. Right now, he's happy, and that's all Noct cares about. 

* * *

"So how'd your date go?" Gladio asks, slamming his shield down towards Noct. 

Noct flings himself to the left, tucking into a roll and then popping back up, already summoning his lance to jab at Gladio. "It was fine." 

Gladio turns, bringing his shield up to block, the clang of Noct's lance hitting it ringing loudly in the room. "You didn't kill him with your cooking?" 

"No, I'm saving that for when I cook _you_ dinner," Noct says with a scowl, stepping back and dismissing his lance, calling forth his sword instead. It materialises into his hand easily in seconds, startling him—sometimes he's still surprised by how effortless it is again, that he doesn't have to dread pain any longer when accessing his Armiger. 

Gladio laughs, dodging Noct's next swing. "You don't think Iggy might get jealous if you try to woo me while dating him?" he asks, bringing his sword down in a powerful swing, barely missing Noct's shoulder as Noct sidesteps at the last moment. 

"Shut up." 

They both quiet then, focusing all their attention on the sparring at hand, lunging and whirling and eluding each other's attacks with ease, until at last Gladio calls it, both of them dripping sweat and panting with the extent of their exertion. They dismiss their weapons, heading into the locker rooms, and Noct takes a seat on the nearest bench while Gladio hands him a towel and water bottle. 

"Thanks," Noct mutters, wiping at his forehead and cheeks before placing the towel around his neck. He dips his head down, letting his breathing slowly steady back down to something more normal. He feels good though—tired and sore, but revitalised, enjoying the endorphin high. 

Gladio drops down next to him, gulping half his water bottle down before capping it and setting it aside. "How are you doing, Noct, really? Aside from Ignis." 

For once, the concern in Gladio's voice doesn't bring forth a knot of guilt in his stomach. "Better," Noct answers. And it's true, or at least he _thinks_ it is. In the week or so since he and Ignis have agreed to a relationship, he's felt so much happier. He hasn't wanted to die, or thought about trying again... "I'm sorry I tried to kill myself," he says abruptly. 

Beside him, Gladio winces, though this time Noct isn't annoyed by it. "I know," Gladio says after a moment. 

Noct sighs. "I know I've already apologised before, but... I shouldn't have put you through it, _any_ of you. I can't even imagine what it must have been like to find me, and having to deal with it all. I said this before too, but I want you to know I mean it. I won't _ever_ do that to you guys again." 

Gladio laughs, but it's a sharp, short laugh, rife with tension. "Not gonna lie, Noct, it was terrifying. I ain't never seen you like that before..." he stops, swallowing, and Noct does too, seeing the pain he's dredged back up. "But look, I just want you happy. And I'm glad to see you so happy with Ignis, but I'm still worried it won't last." 

"Gee, thanks Gladio, way to have faith in us." 

"Not the relationship itself," Gladio clarifies. "Your happiness because of it. It's new, and exciting, and makes everything feel right with the world. It's easy to feel like your problems are gone, or don't matter now. But when that fades... I don't wanna see you crash even harder than before." 

Annoyance bubbles up, but Noct doesn't want to inspect the cause of it too closely. Deep down, he knows Gladio is probably right, knows that Gladio has good reason for more or less saying this to him twice, but he's so desperate to finally feel happy and not deal with everything wrong that he's willing to shove it aside and believe that he really is better. "I'm fine," he says. 

Gladio lets out a sigh, getting to his feet before clapping a hand on Noct's shoulder. "Okay," he says. "Then I'm glad to hear it." 

* * *

"You sure you want all this stuff?" Gladio asks doubtfully as he sets down a box that's been warped by water damage. "A lot of it's gonna be ruined..." 

"Yeah, I know," Noct says, setting down his own heavy box with a relieved sigh. "It's fine, I'm going to sort through it later." 

Those are the last two boxes, so Noct collapses onto his new bed gratefully, sprawling out on his back. His knee's screaming in agony at him after constantly hauling boxes through the Citadel for two hours. He'd wanted Prompto to help as well, but his best friend had left for Lestallum in the early morning hours and Noct wasn't willing to wait another day. 

Ignoring the pain radiating throughout his leg, he sits back up after a few minutes, eyeing all the boxes piled along the wall, already trying to decide which one to tackle first. Normally he'd be content to let them sit and live out of them until they were empty, but that would mean the room would constantly be changing, and even if Ignis never once complained, Noct knows he'd find it distressing. So he wants to unpack quickly. 

"Can't believe you did all this yourself," Gladio comments, looking around the freshly cleaned and painted room. 

Noct shrugs. "No big deal." 

Gladio raises his eyebrows in clear disbelief. "Cleaning and painting five rooms in roughly a week is no big deal?" 

"I didn't paint the other rooms, only cleaned them," Noct says, getting carefully off the bed. 

"Why so many, though? You gonna live out of all of 'em?" 

A particularly sharp throb of pain shoots through Noct's leg, and he grimaces, lowering himself back to the bare mattress behind him with a sigh. The boxes will have to wait. "I was thinking you guys could use them, if you want. For now. I don't expect any of you to permanently live here, unless you want to." 

A thoughtful hum is the only response he gets. Noct's not sure what it's supposed to mean. "You thinking about fixing up the Amicitia manor eventually?" he asks. He's been wondering ever since he began cleaning this wing. 

Gladio wanders over to a shelf of books Noct had decided to keep, rifling through them curiously as he lets out another hum. "Maybe. Might be lonely with just me and the ghosts of the past there, though." 

Well, Noct can certainly relate to _that_. "What about Iris, is she planning on coming back to Insomnia?" 

"Don't know," Gladio says after a moment's pause. 

"You still keep in touch?" Noct asks hesitantly. It pains him to realise that he doesn't know—he hasn't thought much about Iris since his return from the Crystal, hasn't thought to ask after her after Talcott had told him she'd become a daemon hunter. 

"Course," Gladio scoffs, as if he shouldn't even needed to ask, and Noct's relieved enough by the answer to let that slide. "She's been running around to some of the smaller towns that have started rebuilding, helping clear out wild beasts and protecting people trying to live there." 

"Sounds like she could make a good Crownsguard here, if she does decide to come back," Noct says, prodding, wanting more information. 

"Yeah," Gladio says, and it's clear from his tone of voice that he doesn't have any interest in discussing Iris' potential return. Noct lets it drop. 

* * *

Noct spends the next afternoon unpacking and sorting through boxes. He'd been worried that going through some of his stuff from before would be hard on him, but he finds himself curiously detached from most of it, as if he's looking at clothes and games that belonged to somebody else. 

In a way, though, he supposes they did. Even without disappearing into the Crystal for ten years, he never would have been the same person that had set off for Galdin Quay all that time ago. He'd lost too much, been through too much. Maybe, he thinks, in a way it's good that he did lose all that time, that things happened how they did—trying to walk back into a life that no longer fit him would have been impossible. 

Sighing, Noct breaks down the last of the empty boxes and sets them aside with the last small pile of stuff that needs to be thrown out. He looks around the rooms, needing to distract himself from the dangerous turn his thoughts are taking. With his stuff everywhere now, they hardly look like his dad's rooms anymore. 

It's a relief, because he can admit—if only to himself—that he'd been worried about living in them. Of course, it probably helps that he'd never spent too much time in them as a child, and when he did, it was mostly in the sitting room, rarely in the bedroom or bathroom. There's not too many memories here, and very few reminders without all of his dad's things. It seems unlikely that he'll be sent into another episode of dissociating, if he hasn't been already during the past week of cleaning. 

But then... Noct can't recall _any_ time in the past couple weeks that he's dissociated, or had a panic attack, or has even really been upset. Not since he and Ignis officially agreed to date. (Except perhaps that day he'd gotten too close to the throne room—but no. He's _not_ thinking about that, now or ever.) 

He's been consistently _happy_ these two weeks. It's still an odd feeling, unfamiliar and foreign after so long, but he likes it. It's nice not dealing with feeling like his heart's going to explode out of his chest, or that he doesn't really exist in the world, or that _he's_ real while nothing else around him is. He doesn't want to go back to that ever again, and if being with Ignis means he doesn't have to, Noct's more than okay with that. 

Part of him wonders if it will really last, however. If he's really found enough happiness to stop, or if it's as Gladio said, the high of his new relationship simply masking all his existing problems. He probably knows the answer to that, and yet... if he _was_ really just lying to himself, wouldn't he still be having issues? 

He's uncertain, and that uncertainty gives him hope. Of course, he also hasn't spent much time actually _thinking_ about things lately. When he tries, he feels like he might get panicky, so it's easier to shove it away and _not_ think about it, or think about Ignis instead. 

Maybe Gladio would say that's lying to himself, but Noct doesn't really think so. As long as it works, does it really matter if he avoids thinking about the bad things? 

Suddenly Noct feels irritated at his thoughts, and decides to stop thinking about it. Ignis is coming soon with dinner from the kitchens for them, and that's a much more pleasant topic to muse on. He takes a seat on the sofa in the sitting room, pulling out his phone to browse through social media and read through terrible clickbait articles. 

Halfway through an article on "15 Life Hacks Video Games Taught Us," a text pops up on his screen. It's Ignis. _On my way up._ Noct smiles to read it, glad that he'll get to spend the rest of the evening with Ignis. 

An hour later they're cuddled together on the couch, dinner eaten and rooms carefully explored by Ignis, with Noct doing his best to describe the placement of everything. Ignis is lightly trailing his fingers down Noct's chest through his shirt as Noct leans into him, his eyes closed in contentment, enjoying the sensations of Ignis' touch. Occasionally Ignis will glide over a nipple, and Noct's not sure if it's intentional or not, but either way it feels good. It's stirring a lazy arousal in him, warm heat rolling throughout his body as his dick begins giving a few interested twitches. 

"Will you be okay in here?" Ignis murmurs. 

It takes Noct a moment to drag himself out of his pleasant haze and think about the meaning of the words. "Mmm, think so," he mumbles. Ignis brushes against a nipple again, making an involuntary shiver ripple through him. "Didn't have problems while cleaning. It doesn't really remind me of Dad too much, not with all my stuff here... I'll be fine." 

"I'm glad to hear it." 

"I fixed up some suites for you and the others too, if you want one," Noct says. "For now. Until there's somewhere better to live. I know you have the other one, but these are bigger, and you'd be closer to me..." 

"Sounds good," Ignis says, his voice low and husky, and he runs back across a nipple, dragging slow and deliberate, and now Noct _knows_ he's doing it on purpose. 

"Fuck," he mutters, opening his eyes, and kisses Ignis. 

It's good. Noct can taste the remnants of their dinner, but that's easy enough to ignore, focusing instead on how soft and warm Ignis' lips are. When he runs his tongue over Ignis' bottom lip, he can feel the scar from that day in Altissia. It makes his heart swell with a confusing jumble of emotions, guilt and gratitude and sorrow and a strange sort of fondness, knowing that Ignis had endured all of it for him. 

Ignis reaches up, cradling his head, fingers threading through Noct's hair as he presses his tongue in Noct's mouth, and Noct moans against him, his body melting as pure want surges, firing through him and setting all his nerves alight. He gives himself over to the sensations, arousal rapidly building as their kisses become harder and more desperate, tinged with the urgency of their need. 

Ignis pulls back to catch a breath, and Noct can't help the low whine that escapes his throat at the loss, making Ignis laugh softly. Noct gives him another moment and then kisses him again, nibbling gently on his lower lip, making Ignis groan deep in his throat. The sound goes to Noct's head, echoing in his ears and making him dizzy with desire. 

He doesn't know what to do. He wants to take it further with Ignis, but he has little personal experience to draw on, no idea how to move forward in a natural progression, and he doesn't want to look dumb if he messes something up. The uncertainty keeps him hesitant, but it's frustrating, because he's hard and aching now, and wants _more_. 

The matter is taken out of his hands when Ignis draws back again, his hands skimming down Noct's shirt to tug at the hem in a clear meaning of _take it off_. Noct obliges, pulling it over his head and tossing it somewhere to the side, and then Ignis is back on him, pressing him into the back of the sofa as he straddles him, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses over his jaw and down his neck, each one making Noct shiver and leaving his skin tingling with feverish heat. 

Ignis continues on, along his collarbone to his chest, moving steadily downward, and then his mouth is on Noct's right nipple, kissing it once before closing over it, sucking gently as his tongue laves over it. It's warm and wet and good and Noct can't manage more than a needy whimper, reaching out for Ignis. He doesn't even know what it is he's wanting, he just _wants_. "Ignis—" 

His fingers tangle in Ignis' hair, tightening briefly and digging into his scalp as Ignis moves to the other nipple. The sudden cool air on his saliva-slicked nub contrasts with the heat around his other one, and Noct shudders. "Ignis, _please_ —" He's keening, hips canting up without his volition, seeking friction that isn't there. 

"Please what?" Ignis stops just long enough to murmur the question, his breath ghosting over Noct's nipple, and then he's swirling his tongue around it once more before very gently biting down. 

"Oh fuck." It's nearly a sob, the way Noct says it. "I don't know what," he admits, "just, please, _touch_ me Specs, please." Everything feels too good, fogging his head and making it impossible to think clearly, he doesn't care what else Ignis does to him as long as he's touching his dick. 

Instead of touching him more, or doing even more amazing things with his mouth, Ignis moves away, off his lap and to his side. "Am I not touching you already?" he asks, briefly rubbing a thumb lightly over his nipple, and he sounds way too amused, the bastard. Noct growls in frustration, hips jerking into empty air again. 

"You know what I mean," he hisses out. 

Ignis laughs, but Noct forgives him, because his hands are gliding feather-light down Noct's sides until they reach his pants, and then Ignis is yanking at them, trying to get them down. Noct fumbles momentarily, unties the drawstring and lifts his hips so Ignis can get them all the way off. His boxers go with them, and then Noct's naked. 

He's never been naked like this in front of Ignis before, and though Ignis can't even see him, it still leaves him feeling a little embarrassed, and oddly vulnerable. He shivers, resisting the ridiculous urge to reach down and cover himself, and waits to see what Ignis is going to do next. 

However, Ignis doesn't do anything other than to lean over and kiss him, gentle and tender. "Is this alright?" he murmurs. 

"Yeah?" Noct says. It seems silly for Ignis to ask him that now, when they've already kissed so much. 

"Are you certain? I will not be upset if you would prefer to take this slower." 

Oh. Noct flushes as he realises what Ignis had meant. "I want this," he says. And he does. It's new, and a little scary, but he trusts Ignis, and he's excited for this to happen between them. 

Even though he's not completely sure what _this_ is. Still, he feels reasonably confident that Ignis isn't planning to go all the way in one night... and if he is, Noct might just let him. All of his friends have grown up, and left him behind in the past ten years. They've lived their lives, experienced things Noct's not even aware of. He's always watching them be so grown-up, while he fumbles around uselessly, with no clue what to do and constantly having to seek their input. He _hates_ it. He's tired of feeling so much younger than them, so much more immature. At least in this one area, he has a chance to catch up. 

"If you're uncomfortable at any point, don't be afraid to speak up," Ignis tells him, his fingers coming up to caress Noct's chest again, tracing maddening circles around his nipples but never actually touching them. 

"Yeah, okay," Noct mumbles around a moan, and dips his head back, eyes shuttering closed as Ignis teases him, working him up again until Noct's panting and arching his hips once more, desperately begging for Ignis to touch him. 

"Bed," Ignis says suddenly, and it takes Noct a minute for his brain to catch up, but when he does he stumbles in the direction of the bedroom, Ignis following after him. Noct tumbles down onto the mattress when he gets there, watching appreciatively as Ignis sheds his own clothes before climbing into the bed with him. 

"Lay back," Ignis tells him, and Noct does, confused, until Ignis parts his knees, crawling between them, wrapping a hand around the base of Noct's cock before leaning down and licking a long stripe from root to tip, swirling his tongue around the head. 

"Oh _fuck_." It is a sob this time, but Noct doesn't care, because it feels fucking _amazing_ , better than he could have ever thought possible. 

Ignis takes him in his mouth in one sudden movement then, over half of Noct's length disappearing into him, and Noct lets out a drawn-out moan, embarrassing himself with how loud it is. But the feel of Ignis' mouth around his dick is so incredible that he can't help himself. Hot arousal pools in his belly as Ignis curls his tongue around the tip once more, and when he dips into the slit it feels so unexpectedly good that Noct thrusts his hips automatically, driving his dick down Ignis' throat. 

Startled and gagging, Ignis jerks back instantly, coughing a few times as he wipes excess saliva from his chin. Noct's already spilling apologies from his lips, feeling terrible. "Shit, sorry Iggy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that." 

"It's quite alright," Ignis says once he's calmed. "Though perhaps take more care from now on." 

"Yeah," Noct agrees, sucking in a quick breath of anticipation as Ignis re-positions himself, swallowing Noct down once more. Noct clenches the sheets beneath him in tight fists, doing his best to keep still so he doesn't choke Ignis again. Needy, strangled moans keep working their way out of him as Ignis hollows his cheeks and sucks. 

It's obvious to Noct that his isn't the first dick Ignis has sucked. It causes an odd mix of emotions in him, knowing that Ignis has been with other people in the last ten years, that he really was still out living a life while Noct was missing. It's upsetting, but he's curious too—did they mean anything to Ignis? Were they relationships, or just a form of release, maybe something to keep him less lonely in Noct's absence? 

It's none of his business, though, and the thoughts quickly fly out of his head anyway as Ignis' tongue dips back into his slit, and Noct has to fight hard not to thrust again. He'd never thought such a thing would feel so good, but both times have made his eyes flutter and his toes curl, euphoria rushing through him and making him light-headed with arousal. 

A hand wraps around his base again, stroking with short, quick movements. Gods, it can't have been more than a few minutes, but he's already so close. "Ignis—" 

Fingers stroke under his balls, along his perineum, and then Ignis _hums_ , the vibrations going all around Noct's length, completely undoing him. He comes with a loud cry, and Ignis swallows it all down, licking at him gently with his tongue. He continues suckling at Noct's softening cock as he finishes out his orgasm, making him tremble with the over-stimulation. 

Finally Noct can't take it anymore, reaching his hand down to tug gently at Ignis' hair. "Stop... no more." 

Ignis lets Noct slip out of his mouth, sitting up and looking down at him. Noct wonders if he's trying to imagine the sight—he's sure he looks one. Ignis does too, though, his lips reddened and slicked, cheeks flushed, hair mussed, wearing nothing but his necklace, his dick still hard and straining between his thighs. It's a complete turn-on, and if Noct hadn't just came he'd probably be hard from it. 

When Noct feels like he can move without his limbs flopping uselessly, he pulls himself up, reaching toward Ignis. When his hand curls around Ignis' dick, Ignis startles, obviously not expecting it, but Noct gives him a few hesitant strokes, and soon he's letting out breathy little gasps that give Noct the confidence to try more. 

Getting Ignis to lay back, Noct moves between his legs, grasping him and boldly giving him an experimental lick across the head. Ignis jerks, a low moan escaping from his throat, and after a few more licks up and down his length, Noct gets up the courage to take him into his mouth. 

It's... different. Noct's not entirely sure what he was expecting, but Ignis is pleasantly hot and hard, his precum leaking from the tip and exploding across Noct's tongue, the taste surprisingly somewhat sweet. Once he has Ignis in his mouth, however, Noct freezes, realising he has no idea what to do. He tries to recall what Ignis had done to him, but it's all a blur of pleasure in his mind now. 

"It doesn't have to be perfect, Noct," Ignis murmurs, ever perceptive. "Just be careful of your teeth, and do what you think would feel good. I assure you, I'll enjoy it." 

Noct feels himself redden in embarrassment, but he has to admit, it helps settle his nerves some. He starts sucking lightly, gradually increasing the pressure as he becomes more comfortable and takes more of Ignis' dick in. He remembers Ignis had stroked him as well, so Noct curls his fingers around Ignis' cock, and begins sliding his hand up and down. 

He soon finds out it's a lot harder than Ignis had made it seem. He can't manage to get a complementary rhythm going with his mouth, and he keeps bumping his own face with his fist. Still, if the noises Ignis let out are anything to go by, he's enjoying it, and he's staying hard, so Noct tries not to think too much about it. 

He keeps sucking, swiping his tongue as best he can around Ignis' dick, sliding across the head and trying to dip into the slit the way Ignis had done for him, feeling a smug sense of pride when Ignis lets out a loud moan and reaches down to fist his fingers in Noct's hair. 

It takes Ignis longer than it had Noct, but eventually he reaches orgasm, warning him before Noct's name is soon spilling from his lips as his warm come floods Noct's mouth. Despite the warning, Noct's not expecting it so suddenly, and some of it leaks out around Ignis' dick before he's able to start swallowing. 

Noct quickly finds that he doesn't like it. The taste isn't too bad, but the texture reminds him of those variety of mushy desserts he hates. There's nowhere else for it to go, though, so he swallows it all without complaint, pulling away as Ignis' heavy breathing slows to something more normal. 

He moves over, wriggling up next to Ignis as he lies down, curling into his side. Ignis slides his arm around him, pulling him even closer and pressing a soft kiss to his head. "Good?" Noct asks hopefully. 

"Great," Ignis says, pleased, and Noct smiles, still feeling smug with himself. He'd gotten Ignis off on his first attempt, and now he has experience. Maybe not a lot yet, but now he doesn't have to feel so embarrassed to be light years behind everyone else. And this surely won't be all that he and Ignis ever do. He can only go up from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noct, no, you poor thing, so in denial...
> 
> I downloaded an emulator and have been playing the Pocket Edition ~~and not writing~~. Gladio and Umbra look evil, and Cor looks perpetually tired. Which, to be fair, he probably is. It's still really fun though. I totally recommend playing it if you can.
> 
> But this isn't my ~~non-existent~~ blog, so I'll leave you with the fact that you guys are amazing as always, I love every one of you, and thank you all for reading and sticking with me!  <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm uploading this half a week early... Sorry if that makes anyone unhappy :P If I don't upload it now, I may very well miss a week, because I have an essay, and midterms, and I have to speak in Japanese with my professor for a grade, and do social stats homework that is difficult because me and math don't get along...
> 
> Anyways, the point is, I'll be too busy this weekend and next week to edit and post a chapter, so you get it today. It does mean you'll have to wait longer for the next chapter, and I apologise for that, but hopefully the fact that this chapter is ~~12~~ ~~11~~ 4 words under 7K will make up for that? (◕ᴗ◕✿)
> 
> And for Alyssa, enjoy your reference ;D

Noct furrows his brows, glancing discreetly from the paper in his hand to Ignis, and then back to the paper. There's a lot of typos. It's very unlike Ignis, and it confuses Noct. He bites down on his lip as he comes across another, and wonders if it would be too impolite to say anything.

Probably it would be, he decides. It's not as if Ignis is going to know, and no one else is likely to ever read Ignis' personal, informal notes to Noct on the state of Insomnia over the past month since Noct's attempt. Still, it's _weird_. Ignis likes everything in his life to be precise and clear, leaving no room for ambiguity, and that extends to his writing, whether it's an essay for school or text to a friend or an important document for work. To see so many obvious errors is almost _worrying_. 

"Ignis?" he finally says, when he comes across the fifth typo in as many minutes. 

"Yes, Noct?" 

He gnaws on his lip absently for a moment, indecisive. "...You spelled definitely wrong." 

"Pardon?" Ignis says, and his tone's confused, but there's a hint of ice to it, too, his body going rigid with offense. Despite Noct's genuine concern, he's amused to see how easily Ignis gets riled up over something so small. 

"You spelled it with an 'a' in there," Noct says. "And 'there' as well, you used the wrong spelling." 

"Did I?" Ignis asks. His voice is all ice now, solid and dangerous, and normally that would be a sign to run, but Noct can see how his ears are going red, a flush creeping up his neck, and he knows Ignis isn't really mad. 

Noct lowers his voice, deliberately letting it go all soft and anxious. "It's not like you." 

Ignis sighs, offense draining out of him as he relaxes back into his seat. "My apologies. I had... other things on my mind, at the time. It appears my paperwork may have suffered some from it." 

Noct frowns. "Other things?" Ignis being distracted while doing paperwork seems as unlikely as Ignis making numerous typos, but, well... Noct's holding the proof of it in his hands. 

"Ah, well. You," Ignis says, and at first Noct's amused, thinking Ignis means it in a sexual sense, but then he _looks_ at him, sees the tension and upset subtly written upon his body, and does some quick mental math with the date on the paper to realise it was written during the days that Ignis had been avoiding him. 

"Oh," he says lowly, and now he regrets bringing it up after all. 

"Indeed," Ignis says, and Noct doesn't say any more about Ignis' typos after that. 

They work quietly for the next couple of hours, if work is really the right word—it's mostly Ignis bringing him up to speed on all that's happened, and informing him of his potential plans going forward, though he is seeking Noct's input on them. Noct does his best to listen and stay focused, but it's hard. 

Part of him still feels that it's wrong for him to be here, that he doesn't belong, that he's not good enough to be king. That he'll never be good enough, no matter how happy he finds himself, or how much better he seems to be doing. He let someone get killed, after all. 

Despite that, he also feels as if he doesn't have a choice. Insomnia—and all of Lucis—is his kingdom, for better or worse, and so many people are looking to him, depending on him to give them a proper home once more. He doesn't want to let them down any more than he already has. 

So he's here, trying to get back into the swing of things, trying to make proper decisions and stop leaving everything to pile up on Ignis, who was only meant to be his advisor and not running the kingdom himself. Though, if their relationship works out and they stay together, Noct supposes Ignis _would_ rightfully have an equal say in managing Lucis. 

But equal isn't all, and Noct knows he needs to be more involved, no matter how difficult he finds it currently. 

Yet there's only so much he can take, and when Ignis asks if he wants to take a break and go on a short walk outside the Citadel, Noct leaps at the chance. "Yeah, let's go," he says, letting the papers in his hands fall to the desk. They scatter as they land, making Ignis sigh at the sound, but Noct ignores the twinge of guilt for it, already heading out of the room. 

When they get off the Citadel's grounds and start wandering down one of the main streets of the city, Noct's surprised to see how far along the city has come in the two months since his last walk. He's been outside little since then, and not at all off the Citadel's grounds. Unlike before, there are businesses open now. It's only a few, scattered here and there down the street, but it's more than Noct would have expected in just under five months. 

"The city's really growing," he remarks in wonder. 

"Indeed," Ignis says. "Thanks to you." 

Noct's not sure about that. He's in a relatively good mood though, and doesn't want to ruin it, so he makes a non-committal noise and leaves it at that. 

They amble slowly down the sidewalk, taking their time. Ignis uses one hand to trail along the buildings again, the other holding on to Noct's arm, and if anyone were to remark on it, Noct's sure he'd say that he was letting Noct guide him, but he's also equally sure that Ignis mostly wants an excuse to hold him. Noct doesn't mind either way. He's happy to be out here, spending time with Ignis, enjoying the warm sunshine and the feel of the crisp autumn air on his face. There's a faint earthy smell around them, and a few dead leaves crunch under their feet as they walk. It reminds him of the past, of Insomnia before the fall, walking with Prompto to the arcade, or going home alone from his part-time job at the camera store. For once, the memories don't upset him. 

What _does_ upset him is getting stopped again by people who wish to thank him. He deserves it even less than last time, being at fault now for some innocent man's death. They don't know that though, and so Noct does his best to smile and pretend he appreciates it, and wishes them well—the only part he does mean. 

"It still bothers you," Ignis says as they leave behind one older man who'd sobbed out his gratitude. 

Noct bites down on his lip, rubbing at his neck with his free hand, still feeling awkward over the encounter. "Yeah," he admits quietly. "Shouldn't it?" 

Ignis takes a deep breath. "What happened wasn't your fault, Noct. You did the best you could. Not only in protecting Insomnia recently, but in saving Eos. You were dealt a terrible fate by the Gods, and you did remarkably well in overcoming it. Truly, there is no reason to blame yourself." 

"Please, can we not talk about it?" Noct asks around the uncomfortable lump in his throat. He doesn't want to think about any of that. He's happy, he and Ignis are together, he's getting _better_ now, right? There's no reason to think about the bad things. 

"If that is what you wish," Ignis says softly. He sounds upset, and worried, but Noct doesn't want to think about that either. 

They continue on, hitting an intersection, but before Noct can move to cross it, Ignis gently tugs him around the corner. Noct follows willingly, although he's not sure why Ignis would want to go down a side-street. When he rounds the building and sees the view, however, he halts in his tracks, causing Ignis to stumble. 

"Sorry, Specs," Noct says immediately, but he's not really focused on the apology. "Did we walk to Lestallum and I somehow missed it?" 

Ignis laughs, rich and warm, the worry from a few minutes ago already absent. "I don't believe so, no." 

"Huh." Noct stares in stunned wonder at the street before him, at the myriad of stalls and food carts lining both sides of it, all crammed in neatly beside each other, each with large signs in front advertising their items or menus and the respective pricing. People are everywhere, flitting from stall to stall, talking and laughing with each other and the proprietors as they examine wares and order food. The tantalising smell of grilled meat and veggies wafts through the air towards Noct, making his stomach growl with sudden hunger. 

It's a smaller version of the open air market in Lestallum, and Noct loves it. "Where are people getting the food?" He knows it's not from Insomnia—they're still on rations until they can get a more steady and reliable supply. 

"They buy it themselves from Lestallum every week and bring it here to sell for a small profit. Each food vendor has a limited amount for the day, and close once it's sold out," Ignis tells him, pulling again on Noct's arm as he heads down the street. "Stop me if you see some food you'd like to try." 

Noct looks at the various stalls at they pass, noting that like in Lestallum, a lot of them are selling weapons and other survival gear. He hopes in time the need for that will diminish. "Insomnia doesn't have a currency currently, what are they using here? Gil?" 

"Yes. Once the long night came, the old currency became worthless. People outside Insomnia would not accept it, and eventually it became too dangerous to stay in the city. These days only gil carries any weight with people," Ignis says as they make their way down the street. Ignis sticks to the middle of the street with ease, where the crowd is less dense, telling Noct he's been down here enough to learn his way around. "We will likely need to switch the city to it, rather than try to reclaim our old system." 

"Makes sense. Here," Noct says, stopping in front of a cart, his attention caught by the wonderful smell of grilled chickatrice. "This looks good." They get in line, placing their order once it's their turn, receiving their food shortly after. It's delicious, and Noct devours his quickly, pocketing his trash to toss later. They keep wandering, not bothering to stop at most of the stalls, until Noct spots one that _isn't_ selling necessities. "Wait a moment, Specs." 

Ignis pauses, turning back towards Noct's voice. "See something that interests you?" 

"Yeah." It's a small figurine of a chocobo, carved with pain-staking, exquisite detail, and painted white. It reminds him of Merlin—the chocobo he'd rented from Wiz's ranch and ridden across most of Lucis. With a pang of sadness, he realises there's a good chance his chocobo is long dead. The thought hurts. He'd loved that bird. 

He reaches out, picking up the figurine. It's the only white-painted one there. The rest are all yellow or black. "Two hundred gil for it," the woman behind the stall says, brushing back stray strands of brown hair from her face. 

"What is it?" Ignis asks curiously, and Noct drops it carefully into his hand, watching Ignis' fingers inspect it. "Ah, a chocobo." 

"It's white," Noct says quietly, and then feels dumb, suddenly, for being so sentimental over a mere trinket, but Ignis is already reaching for his wallet, pulling out a couple of coins and handing them over. 

"Need a receipt?" 

"That won't be necessary," Ignis says, putting his wallet away again. 

"Thank you," Noct says softly as they walk away. He clutches the chocobo tightly in his hand, knowing that tonight it'll be joining the Carbuncle totem next to his bed. 

Ignis moves his hand down Noct's arm, until he finds Noct's hand, lacing their fingers together. "Wiz's ranch never closed," he says in lieu of an answer. "It was the only place besides Lestallum to be so guarded. Many of the chocobos are still there." 

A small bud of hope blooms. "Yeah?" 

"Perhaps we could make a visit in the future." 

Noct lets a small smile cross his face, and squeezes Ignis' hand briefly. "I'd like that." 

* * *

Tears are already wetting his pillow when Noct's eyes fly open, a strangled gasp tearing out of his mouth as he rolls over and stares unseeing into the dark room. His heart aches terribly, and he has to bite down hard on his lip to stifle the sobs that are threatening. 

He'd had a dream about Altissia again, something that's been frequent since his return, but unlike most times it hadn't been a mere memory playing out in his sleep. In this one, Ignis had been there on the alter with him and Luna, and Noct had been forced to watch helplessly as Ardyn had killed them both, torturing Ignis relentlessly before finally driving his dagger deep into Ignis' gut, eviscerating him. He'd screamed and cried, desperately trying to get his body to move, to call forth a weapon, to _stop_ Ardyn, but in the end he hadn't been able to do anything. 

After that, Ardyn had laughed and disappeared into thin air, tipping his hat to him, and then Noct could move again. He'd stumbled over to Luna and Ignis both, dropping to his knees as he'd cried, reaching for them. There'd been blood everywhere, and though Noct was one hundred percent sure they'd been dead, their eyes had snapped open when he'd touched them, and they'd started speaking. 

They'd blamed him for their deaths, telling him it was all his fault, that they hated him and wanted to see him suffer as they were. _You should have stayed in the Crystal forever_ , Ignis had said, and it was as if Ardyn had wrenched a dagger into Noct's stomach as well, to hear those words. Now that he's awake, he realises it wasn't even possible for Ignis to know about his imprisonment in the Crystal at that point, but in the dream it had made perfect sense. 

"It was just a dream," Noct whispers to himself, but more tears drip down, a hitched breath that isn't quite a sob escaping him. The room around him feels odd, the world shimmering for a moment, and Noct swallows, scared he's going to start dissociating. He hasn't in over two weeks now, hasn't had any _reason_ to, and he really wants to keep it that way. 

He turns his head, looking at his nightstand. At the Carbuncle totem, and the new chocobo figurine that reminds him of Merlin. He remembers past nightmares, and long nights spent at havens, curled up against the bird's soft feathers, staring up at the sea of stars above him, so much brighter than they'd ever been in Insomnia, no pollution or Wall to obscure their shine. 

When he'd been younger, and he'd sought Ignis for comfort after bad dreams, the two of them would sometimes sneak out of their rooms. At first, when they'd been children, it was just up to the sky walk, but as they'd gotten older they'd started sneaking out of the Citadel and off the grounds, out into the city and to a spot in the park where they could lay back on the grass and see the stars. It had always managed to calm Noct, the nightmares melting away until he could hardly remember why he'd been so upset. 

He wants that again now, desperately. He wants to go back to their old spot and lay there with Ignis by his side and look up at the sky and lose himself in it until his dream fades from his mind. 

Throwing back the covers, Noct slides out of bed before it even registers in his mind that he's doing so. He heads out of his room, down the hall to the one Ignis has taken. He's not thinking it through—not the late hour nor the fact that Ignis is blind and can't stargaze anymore—he just wants it to be like the past when something so simple could comfort him. 

Slipping silently into Ignis' room, Noct stands by his bed and softly calls his name until Ignis wakes, in the same manner he had done when they were children. 

"Noct?" Ignis mumbles in sleepy confusion. "Is everything alright?" 

"Wanna go out," Noct mutters back, reaching for Ignis and tugging at his t-shirt. 

Ignis sits up, running a hand through sleep-dishevelled hair. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but is it not the middle of the night?" 

"Don't care," Noct says, tugging again. "C'mon, Specs." 

Ignis sighs, sounding put-upon, but Noct knows he's not really mad, and that no matter how much of a fuss he puts up, he'll go wherever Noct wishes. Ignis has never been able to say no to him. 

Ignis forces them both into warmer clothes—it's late October, after all, and the nights have a biting chill to them—complaining all the while, and then Noct's leading them outside, back to the spot they spent so many nights in as teenagers. Ignis holds on to his arm tightly as they walk, following uncertainly, quiet now. Noct suspects he's distressed by not knowing their destination, but he's reluctant to explain and have Ignis talk him out of it. 

"What are we doing?" Ignis asks when they finally stop. His voice sounds stern and disapproving, but Noct ignores it. 

"Lay with me," Noct says simply, pulling him down to the grass. 

Ignis is silent a moment as they lay side by side in the damp grass, bodies pressed tightly together, the heat between them enough to keep them warm. "...Stargazing?" 

Noct stares up at the pinpricks of light dotting the blackened night sky, only now really registering the fact that Ignis can't appreciate the sight anymore. His cheeks heat in embarrassment. "...I know you can't really see now, I just—" He cuts himself off, not really willing to explain about his nightmare or the desperation and fear that drove him to come out here. 

"I don't mind," Ignis tells him, more gentle now. "It's enough to simply be here with you." 

It's a sweet sentiment, and should make Noct happy, but instead he feels terrible. Ignis can't even have this one small thing anymore, and it's all Noct's fault. "I'm sorry," he says. 

"For what?" 

It's on the tip of his tongue to say, _For you being blind because of me_ , but he knows Ignis would never accept it. "It can't be easy, to not have your sight anymore..." Noct says instead. He's already regretting saying anything—Ignis always deflects when the topic of his vision comes up. 

Beside him, Ignis lets out a sigh, and grabs Noct's hand, holding on tightly. He's quiet for awhile, and Noct assumes he isn't going to answer, so when Ignis speaks again, his voice breaking into the comfortable stillness that's settled over them, Noct's surprised. 

"It wasn't easy in the beginning," Ignis says. The words are just above a whisper, and Noct stills, hardly daring to breathe lest it somehow makes Ignis stop talking. Around them, the world is still and silent as well, and in this moment it almost feels as if they're the only two people in existence. 

"I was angry," Ignis continues. "At Ardyn, at the Six, at myself. I raged internally at the unfairness of it all, begging whichever god would listen to return my sight. I feared becoming a burden to you, and being left behind. I felt useless, and helpless. Needing Prompto's assistance with everything only added to that, as did Gladio's wish for me to stay behind." 

Noct listens, his heart clenching in grief. For Ignis, to whom clarity and independence were everything, it must have been absolute hell. 

"Once I stopped languishing in self-pity and sorrow after your disappearance, teaching myself how to live again, it became easier," Ignis says. His voice seems steady enough, but Noct knows him well enough to catch the barely noticeable tremor in it, and it makes his heart ache even more to hear it. He has no doubt it did become easier, but never _easy_. 

Ignis pauses, taking a slight breath. "I began relying on myself again, re-gained my independence, and at last the blindness felt like less of a death sentence and more of a disability I could accept." 

_You shouldn't have to accept it_ , Noct wants to say. _It should never have happened at all._ He swallows, and says nothing. 

"However, there are... moments," Ignis says, "where I find it difficult still, to not be able to see. Moments where I yearn to see you, and find myself upset that I cannot." The tremor is more pronounced now, and he sounds ashamed to be admitting such a thing, as if it's a weakness he can't abide, but Noct can't imagine how he doesn't feel that every second of every day. 

"I'm sorry," he says. The words are thick, nearly sticking in his throat, and feel so inadequate. It occurs to him suddenly—Ignis doesn't know what he looks like. Ignis hasn't seen him since he was twenty. It feels like a terrible sort of irony, that Ignis sees him as Noct so desperately wishes to see himself, and yet cannot. 

_It's my fault_ , he wants to say. _It's all my fault, I'm so sorry, please forgive me._ It brings to mind his nightmare, of Ignis looking at him with such hatred in his green eyes, his mouth spilling out words of vitriol as easily as his stomach spilled out his guts. Noct shivers. 

"Cold?" Ignis murmurs, pressing even closer to him. 

The world goes unsteady, flickering in and out of reality, Noct's grasp on it slipping ever so slightly. He shivers again, rolling on his side to curl up into Ignis, placing a hand over Ignis' chest, feeling his heart beat steady beneath his palm. "No," he murmurs, his breath ghosting gently against Ignis' neck. 

"Nightmare, then?" 

"Mm." Noct makes a noise of agreement, feeling the rise and fall of Ignis' chest, letting it soothe him. The world stops flickering, and he chalks the sensation up to a fluke. 

"Would you like to talk about it?" 

"No," he answers honestly. He sees little point—he knows it was only a dream, and he knows that Ignis doesn't actually hate him, or even blame him, though he should. He also knows that Ardyn obviously didn't injure Ignis, no matter how real it had felt. Were he to talk of his dream, Ignis would reassure him, but Noct doesn't _need_ that reassurance. It's enough to feel Ignis beneath his hands and his head, alive and well. 

They both fall quiet, and Noct turns his head some to look up at the stars, the sight of them slowly relaxing him, making the horrible images in his head gradually disappear. He rests the side of his head flat against Ignis' chest again, listening to the faint thumping of his heart, finding comfort in the noise. 

"Noct?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Could you, perhaps—would you describe the sky for me?" 

Noct's chest tightens at the uncertain request, but he turns his head back obediently, looking once more up at the starscape above them. "Black," he says, his voice hushed, "but not truly. There's not a cloud in sight, and the moon's high in the sky, nearly full, only a sliver missing." 

"And the stars?" Ignis' voice is not _quite_ steady. 

"There are stars everywhere, carpeting the sky and lighting it up," Noct tells him quietly, wishing fiercely that Ignis could see it for himself. "Now that the Wall's down, you can see them all so clearly, picking out each bigger individual dot of light, and the constellations. The smaller ones look like someone spilled stardust all over the sky. The Star of Solheim is especially bright tonight..." He trails off, his descriptions feeling so inferior in comparison to the view above. 

"It sounds lovely," Ignis says, but there's an unevenness to his tone and a slight hitch in his breath that lets Noct know he's crying. It makes his chest tighten even more, his own eyes prickling with hot tears. 

Not knowing what else to do, Noct lifts his head, scooting a little further up, and places a soft kiss to Ignis' cheek, in the middle of his tears. "It is," he says quietly, and then curls back up on Ignis' chest. Ignis wraps an arm around him, holding him tight, and they lay there together silently, the presence of each other a soothing solace to their sorrow. 

* * *

Prompto's birthday rolls around a couple of days later. Noct smiles and congratulates him along with the others, and tells himself he's not bothered in the least by how carefree Prompto seems, how _happy_ he is to be celebrating thirty-one years of existence—thirty-one years that he has no problems remembering each and every one of, unlike Noct. 

There isn't more than a cake and a bit of drinking in the way of celebrating, much like everyone had done for Noct's birthday. There just aren't enough resources still for any sort of lavish parties—not that Prompto's ever been comfortable with those anyway. The first year they'd been friends, Noct had thought to throw him one, but upon bringing it up with him, Prompto had nearly gone into a panic attack in his desperation to convince Noct not to do it. 

Keeping that in mind, Noct chooses to simply invite Prompto to his room to hang out later that night. Prompto agrees happily, and soon enough they're setting aside empty dinner plates as they lounge on Noct's couch. 

"So..." Noct says, realising that he has no idea what to do next. 

"So," Prompto echoes, and they sit there awkwardly. 

Right, so maybe this was a bad idea. Noct has no idea what Prompto likes to do for fun anymore, if there even really is anything. Their high school years were filled with video games and comics, and running around the city while Prompto took pictures of anything and everything. Noct suspects the first two stopped being a priority when the darkness came, and while Prompto still has his camera, Noct's not sure if he uses it much. 

"Guess there really isn't King's Knight anymore, huh?" he eventually asks, at a loss to come up with anything else. 

Prompto lets out a little laugh. "Naw, dude, that hasn't worked in years. Kinda needed someone in the city to maintain the servers." 

A pause that's even more awkward, and Noct gropes around desperately for something to say. He's starting to feel shaky, a little panicky and like his grip on reality isn't quite steady. It's probably nothing, but he doesn't want to find out for sure. "Anything new that's good?" 

"Dunno. Didn't exactly have time for them, ya know?" Prompto says with a shrug. 

Fuck, this is painful, and Noct's feeling worse. The friendship between him and Prompto used to be so easy, as automatic as breathing. Now the ten years apart have ruined that, the Crystal stealing it from him, and Noct hates it. It's all changed now, Prompto has changed, their _friendship_ has changed— 

He looks around, trying to keep his mind focused and in the present so that he doesn't dissociate—because he's _better_ , dammit, it's not supposed to happen anymore—and his eyes fall on the chest from his old room, the one containing all his old consoles and games. "Hey, wanna go old school?" 

For a moment, Prompto hesitates, and Noct nearly panics, thinking that maybe Prompto really doesn't like video games anymore, and their easy friendship is forever lost, but then Prompto grins at him. "Sure, why not?" he says. 

He gets up with Noct, the two of them opening the chest and beginning to sort through it, dragging out Noct's systems, and then Prompto catches sight of a game, immediately snatching it up. "Oh Noct, Assassin's Creed! Man, I haven't played this in _years_ ," Prompto says wistfully. 

"So let's play it then," Noct says with a smile at his friend. Already he's feeling better, the threat of an episode fading as Prompto gets genuinely excited over the prospect of playing one of their favourite games. Of course, there's the risk that Noct will fall hard into the past with this, forget when he is again, but he pushes that aside, refusing to think about it. 

"Remember when we talked Iggy into taking us to the Assassin's Festival in Lestallum?" Prompto asks with a grin as they start plugging in cords to the tv. 

Noct grins as well. "Yeah, that was fun. I think those costumes are still in my Armiger somewhere." 

"Awesome." 

They quickly finish setting things up, popping the disc in, and Prompto cheers when the game comes up on the screen. "Yeah, we're in business, baby!" They plop themselves back down onto the couch, controller in Prompto's hand, and for the rest of the night Noct forgets that he's thirty-one. 

* * *

Another nightmare, and Noct wakes with a start, bolting upright in bed with eyes wide open, looking frantically but unseeing around the room for several long moments before his vision adjusts and reality sets in. He's in Insomnia, in the Citadel, in his dad's old rooms. Not in the twisting and never-ending maze of corridors in Gralea, with MTs popping out of every crevice and Ardyn's voice taunting him eternally over the intercom. 

He presses the palms of his hands to his eyes, breathing out slowly as he tries to banish the terrible images from his head. They linger stubbornly, making him feel sick to his stomach. Sleep is going to be impossible now. He considers getting Ignis, but a glance to his phone tells him it's two in the morning, and he doesn't want to make a habit of disturbing Ignis' sleep. 

Finally he decides to go out on his own, and after throwing on some warmer clothes he slips outside to the gardens. They haven't been tended to in years, and aren't as pretty as they once were, but Noct wants the fresh air more than anything. He follows the old path, stepping over dying flowers that grew wild during the summer, glad for the return of the sun, and settles himself down onto a crumbling stone bench tucked away at a dead end. 

Not longer after he sits, loud, frantic yowling rents the air, echoing all around him and startling him enough to jump to his feet, calling a sword from the Armiger before he even registers the thought. The yowls continue, and after a moment he follows the source of the noise until he finds a tiny kitten tangled up in some overgrown brush, letting out panicked cries as it struggles to get free. 

Realising there's no threat, he dismisses his weapon and reaches for it. "Hey, it's okay," he says soothingly, carefully grabbing the kitten. He gets scratched a few times by its flailing claws, but manages to free it. 

The kitten's cries cut off once it realises it's free, and Noct backs away slowly, settling himself down on the ground as he watches it. He expects it to run away, but instead it stands there, watching him for several long minutes. Noct pulls out his phone and pretends to browse, affecting disinterest while watching out of the corner of his eye. 

Soon enough the kitten's approaching him cautiously, sniffing at his legs, and then the hand that Noct extends out very slowly. Seemingly satisfied with what it finds, the kitten bumps its head against Noct's hand, rubbing its cheek along his knuckles. Noct laughs softly and begins to pet it. "You're a sweet cat, aren't you?" 

It's not long before the kitten's all over him, curling around his legs and purring loudly as Noct continues to pet it. When he has a moment, he checks and sees that it's a female. She's beautiful, pure white with bright blue eyes, and Noct can't help but be reminded of Luna, that day he'd finally seen her, and the radiant way she'd looked in her white dress as she'd spoken to the people of Altissia, blue eyes shining fiercely over the crowds to meet with his. 

Eventually the kitten settles down into his lap, curling her tiny tail around her body, and Noct pets her absently, the steady motion relaxing him and making him sleepy, his nightmare and painful memories finally fading into the background of his mind. At last he feels he'll be able to sleep, and carefully moves the kitten off his lap, getting up to go inside. He's halfway across the gardens before he realises that she's following him. 

"You can't come with me, kitty," Noct says, halting and looking down at her. She blinks up at him and sits, and it looks so proper and regal that Noct can't help but laugh, even as he's reminded of Luna again. In that second, he makes an impulsive decision. "You know what? Why not? I'm technically king now, and if I want a cat, I can have one." She looks dirty and a little thin, and also isn't wearing a collar, so Noct assumes it's unlikely she already belongs to anyone here. 

He bends down, scooping her up carefully, and she snuggles against his chest, down into his arms, purring loudly, and though Noct will forever deny it to anyone, that's the moment his heart completely melts. 

He carries her into the Citadel, back into his rooms, depositing her on the bed before undressing and crawling in beside her. She lets him get situated, and then climbs atop him, kneading him through the blankets with her tiny paws for several moments before curling back into a ball and sleeping. "Good idea," he murmurs, closing his eyes, and does the same. 

* * *

The kitten is still on his bed when he wakes the next morning, though she's now cuddled up under his arm, almost buried in his armpit. "Glad to see you're still here," he murmurs. "Guess if I'm going to keep you, I should give you a name..." In the morning sunlight, what he can see of her fur looks even whiter, if still somewhat dirty from having been outside. Still, he's reminded of Luna again, and for a moment he's even tempted to name the kitten after her, but he doesn't want the looks of pity he knows he'll get when people hear the kitten's name. 

And he also knows people probably wouldn't understand, or would read into it the wrong way. He'd seen too many news articles discussing their 'pure love' after the wedding had been announced, but in truth she's never been more than a very dear friend to Noct, and one he hadn't even seen in years thanks to Niflheim. Had they had the chance to properly meet in Altissia, and spend time together, he might have developed feelings for her. Instead... 

Noct sighs. The time he and Luna had together was short, too short... They were supposed to have so much more, to meet and save the world together and finally have a chance at a life for each of them, not forever be limited to those stolen, ephemeral moments in a notebook. 

Blinking, Noct's thoughts temporarily derail as he looks at the sleeping kitten beside him. "Ephemeral," he says, liking the sound of the word. "Effy. Do you like that, kitty? It can be our secret reference to Luna." She stays asleep, and Noct frowns a little, wondering if that's normal. The only other cat he's had in a sense was Sol, the cat he and Ignis had secretly taken care of as children, and she'd always poke her head up instantly when you spoke to her, no matter if she was sleeping or not. 

"I guess you'll need food and things if I'm to keep you," he muses, finally sitting up. The newly named Effy lifts her head at the movement, blinking as she looks at him. Noct scratches her chin briefly before getting out of bed and dressing, grabbing some of his gil off the dresser and stuffing it into his wallet before shoving the whole thing into a pocket. 

On his walk with Ignis a few days ago, he'd noticed that one of the newly opened shops was a pet store. At the time, it had seemed strange to him, but thinking about it now, he realises it only makes sense that a lot of people probably brought their pets with them to Insomnia, and thus would need supplies. 

"How about it, wanna go with me?" Noct asks the kitten, but though she's awake, she doesn't turn at the sound of his voice. He frowns again as he pockets his phone, wondering if there's something wrong with her. 

Soon he's slipping out of the Citadel, Effy in his arms. He holds onto her tightly at first, expecting her to be startled by all the loud noises of the people on the street, but she doesn't react at all, lying calmly in his arms as she looks around at everything. "You're unusually calm," he mutters to her, but she doesn't look up at him, either ignoring him or not hearing him. 

A small bell tinkles above the door of the shop as Noct enters, but Effy ignores it completely, turning her head back and forth to look at the new environment they're in. 

"Hello—oh, Your Majesty!" The older man who hurries out of the back room bows briefly to him, making Noct shift uncomfortably. How is it so many of Insomnia's former citizens can still recognise him after all this time, when he can't even recognise himself? 

"Hi," he returns, feeling awkward. "Um, I found this cat last night." 

The shop owner walks over, peering down at Effy. "She's beautiful," he says. "Young too, I'd say maybe four months." 

"Yeah. I'm going to keep her, so I wanted to get her stuff..." 

"Well you've certainly come to the right place!" the man tells him with a smile. "Would you like any assistance?" 

Noct's tempted to tell him no—he's always been somewhat awkward in social situations, and it's only worsened since his self-imposed isolation in the Citadel after his suicide attempt. On the other hand, he's not sure what all a cat might need beyond the obvious basics of food, litter, and toys, so help would probably be good to have. And if he lets the man help, word of it will probably spread, and make him look good in the public eye, which will at least make Ignis happy. 

"Sure," he finally says with a sigh. "Lead the way." 

Three quarters of an hour later he's looking in despair at all the stuff he's bought and wishing he'd had the foresight to come in a car. He _could_ probably put it all in the Armiger, but his dad's old lectures about not misusing the magical space in front of the general public still hover in his mind, staying him. "Uh, I don't have a way to get this home," he admits. 

"Oh, it's no problem!" The man—whose name Noct had somehow never managed to learn—smiles at him, his brown eyes bright with kindness. "I can have someone bring it by for you." 

"Thanks," Noct says. They make arrangements, and then Noct pauses at the door before he leaves, turning back. "Do you know anything about deaf cats?" he asks. "I think she might be." 

The owner looks up from the counter he'd been wiping down. "Huh. Can't say as I do. She not responding to sounds?" 

Noct nods. "Yeah," he says. "Like she doesn't even register them." 

"I can give you the name of a good vet in Lestallum. You'll want to get her shots and have her fixed anyway, they should be able to help you figure out if she can't hear." He comes over, holding out a business card. 

Noct takes it, shifting Effy so he can pocket it. "Thanks." 

He heads home then, Effy quiet and content in his arms, and the delivery guy pulls up to the Citadel about the same time that Noct's approaching the entrance. He takes Effy up to his room first, leaving her there, and then goes back down to help. With the two of them carrying things, it only takes one slightly bulky trip, and Noct slips the guy some gil as thanks when he leaves. 

His phone vibrates with a text as he begins to reach for the stuff he's bought, and he pulls it out to see it's Ignis, asking if he's up yet. Ignoring it for the moment, he starts opening things. 

Effy runs around in excitement once Noct finally has everything set up for her, beelining towards her food and water dishes first, and then over to the litter box. Once she's done her business she makes a cautious dash for the new cat tower by his window in the sitting room, clawing at one of the scratching poles a few times, and then finally hauling herself up to the third level. She sniffs around curiously before finally looking to the window, peering with interest out of it, and Noct smiles as he watches her. She's absolutely adorable, and he finds that despite not even having her a full day, he already loves her. 

"Well, welcome to your new home, Effy," he says quietly, stepping close and running a finger along her back. "I hope you'll be happy here." She looks at him, purring and rubbing against his arm with delight. Noct smiles again, and then goes to text Ignis that he's awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I gave Noct a cat. Did I not say this fic was self-indulgent?? Noct deserves a cute cuddly kitten to love on and that will love him in return, dammit! #noctdeservesacat2k18 If I could draw, I would draw so much cuteness with Noct and Effy.
> 
> Also I swear to god the stargazing scene was originally meant to be fluffy. ...Don't give me that look, it _was_. Listen, this is why you don't trust me to write fluff, dammit! fayth + fluff = baaaad.
> 
> Oh and there will be no visits to chocobo outposts in this fic, sorry. I write pointless things sometimes. I don't claim to be a perfect writer :P
> 
> Thank all of YOU (yes, you, right there, sitting at your computer, or on your phone, or tablet, or... however you all access the internet these days) for your comments and kudos and bookmarks! They make me feel awesome and hopefully they make you feel awesome too. And I like talking. I hope you all have a good day, and if not, I offer you hugs or whatever you need!
> 
>  
> 
> ~~I'm sleep deprived help me~~


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this later in the day than I would like, but this is the first day of my spring break, and I slept in... And I wanted to get this done before the Royal Edition releases for me tomorrow (I hate being in north america, sob), so, you know. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

"Take it easy, Noct," Gladio says, clapping him briefly on the shoulder before heading out.

Noct waves a hand in acknowledgement. "Yeah," he says, wiping his face one last time with the towel. It doesn't help, he still feels gross. Their sparring session was particularly intense today, with Gladio evidently deciding he needed to amp things up now that Noct is slowly getting back into the swing of things. 

Making a face, Noct decides to head up to his room and shower. He greets Effy when he gets there, making sure she sees him before reaching out to pet her so that he doesn't startle her. He'd borrowed a car to take her to the vet in Lestallum a few days ago—a trip that had nearly resulted in a panic attack he refuses to acknowledge—and had confirmed his suspicions about her hearing. 

She's completely deaf, something apparently common in blue-eyed white cats, and Noct's a little sad she won't ever be able to hear his voice, but that doesn't stop him from talking to her, and she seems happy still. He climbs in the shower, letting the warm spray wash away all the sweat and grime of sparring from his skin. 

When he gets out he shaves, and once he's done he finds himself overcome with the urge to look at himself in the mirror. It's something he hasn't deliberately done in months, but he's _better_ now, and it's been so long that he's starting to forget what he really does look like. And he's curious, not just to see himself, but to see if he can handle it. He thinks he is, he _feels_ okay enough to, but some little niggling whisper deep in his mind isn't so sure. 

Bracing himself against the sink, Noct raises his eyes to the glass, regretting it the moment his eyes meet his own reflection. Freezing, he swallows hard, unable to tear his gaze away from himself. Not only does he still look like a stranger, he realises he'd been expecting to see something more closely resembling his twenty year old self. To see little that he recognises is terribly disconcerting. 

Swallowing again, he raises a hand, reaching out to touch the mirror, but it suddenly feels much further away than it should, seemingly taking forever for his fingers to connect, and when they finally do he can't feel the cool glass beneath them. There's only nothingness, and when he takes a step back he realises the floor is also gone from beneath his feet. 

_No_. No no no. Tears build up as his breathing increases, but he refuses to let them fall. Ripping his gaze away, he whirls around, the movement making him dizzy as the world spins sickeningly far from him, going fuzzy and out of focus. He stumbles out of the bathroom, anxiety a sick knot in his stomach, his chest tight as he struggles to draw in a breath. 

He wants— _needs_ —Ignis. It's been a few weeks, he'd almost forgotten what this feels like, and it seems so much worse than he remembers. Noct doesn't want to deal with it alone. "Stay here, Effy," he mumbles, his voice sounding tinny and distant, and leaves the room. 

_Damn Gladio_. He'd warned Noct, tried to tell him that this would happen, but Noct had been so desperate to be better that he'd ignored it and lied to himself that he was fine, he was okay. He can't ignore it now—he's most definitely _not_ okay, and being happy with Ignis isn't enough to erase everything. The thought makes him want to sob, but he stifles it. 

Ignis is in his office when Noct gets there, preparing to leave, nearly to the door when Noct comes in. Noct looks at him, and realises suddenly that he doesn't want to admit the truth. Gladio's warning is still echoing in his head, making him feel ashamed and frustrated. He hates that this is happening again, hates that he can't even look at his own damn reflection without disconnecting from reality, and he doesn't want to tell Ignis that he's not better at all. 

"Noct?" Ignis asks uncertainly, hearing his presence. 

"Yeah," Noct breathes out, reaching for him and pulling him down in a hard kiss as he uses his foot to slam the door shut behind him. It seems ridiculous, but it's all he can think to do, to still get the contact he needs without telling Ignis the truth or having him catch on what's wrong. It's the last thing he's in the mood for, the way he's feeling, but that doesn't matter right now. 

Ignis pulls back after a few minutes, seemingly dazed, his lips swollen from the bruising kisses Noct had given him. "What was that for?" he asks, almost breathless. 

Noct leans into him and shrugs, knowing Ignis will feel the movement even if he can't see it. "Missed you," is all he says, and the world's still flickering in and out, his body floating oddly through it, so he pulls Ignis into another kiss. 

It's easy enough to let the rest of the world fade completely away, everything narrowing down to just him and Ignis, Ignis' mouth soft and wet against his, the feel of his body warm and firm beneath Noct's hands even through layers of clothing. Ignis slips into his mouth, tangling their tongues together, and a hand comes up to brush a thumb over Noct's nipple, making him moan softly into Ignis' mouth as he starts getting in the mood. 

Noct shivers as Ignis rubs repeatedly across his nipple, his dick growing hard in his pants, straining against the fabric of his boxers. He can already feel precum beading out, smearing wetly everywhere. "Wall," he gasps out, shuffling them backwards, pushing Ignis into it, sliding a knee carefully between his legs as he presses his whole body against him. 

Ignis kisses him hard, sucking roughly on his lower lip, and it feels too good, just what Noct needs, sensations overwhelming him until he can't tell if his head's swimming from arousal or dissociation. Ignis' dick nudges into Noct's thigh, hot and hard, and Noct reaches down to grope him through his pants, making Ignis jerk and groan against his lips. 

"Wait," Ignis says, putting his hand flat against Noct's chest and pressing, moving him back. Noct whines, not liking the loss of contact. "Shh," Ignis murmurs, trailing his hand down until he finds Noct's jeans. Noct stills as he fumbles with them, tempted to help but knowing Ignis' pride won't allow it, and soon enough they're both sans pants and underwear. 

Noct leans back into him, kissing him again as Ignis reaches down, taking them together in his hand. He moans at the feel of Ignis' hand wrapping firmly around both of their dicks, rubbing them together, and then Ignis begins to stroke, hand sliding up and down in a wonderful rhythm that makes his knees weak and his balls tight. 

"Ignis, Gods," he pants, clutching tightly to his shirt as Ignis continues to jerk them in tandem. Heat's gathering in his belly, his skin overheated and flush, and he presses his lips hard against Ignis' once more, licking desperately into his mouth, Ignis swallowing down his moans as his orgasm approaches. 

"Fuck." Noct whines low in his throat, the feel of Ignis' hand fisting over the heads of their cocks driving him wild. "Fuck... Ignis... gonna come—" His stomach clenches, balls drawing up, whole body trembling as he tips toward the edge. 

"Good, come for me, Noct," Ignis tell him, his voice hoarse and fogged with lust, and that does it. Noct lets out a deep groan as he comes, spurting hot and fast over Ignis' hand and their dicks, and it's _so good_ , and then warmth is splattering against his groin and he realises Ignis is coming too, crying out his name softly, and that's _even better_. 

Noct lets out a relaxed sigh as Ignis lets go of them, his body limp as he stumbles back on shaky legs, slumping down to the floor in a heap of post-orgasmic bliss. He looks blearily up at Ignis, grinning at the sight of him using his underwear to clean up, the look of resigned distaste on his face almost comical. 

It's only a few minutes later, as he's climbing to his feet and pulling his pants back on, that Noct realises he's no longer dissociating. 

* * *

Ignis brings dinner to Noct's rooms later than night, letting himself in. Noct's halfway to the door when Effy spots Ignis and jumps off her tower, running curiously over to him and twining around his legs after a cursory sniff. Ignis startles badly, the plates in his hands nearly dropping, but Noct's there, grabbing onto them before they can fall. "Uh, Iggy, meet Effy," he says sheepishly. 

"Was that a cat, Noct?" 

"Yeah. Hang on." Noct sets the food down on the table, and then scoops up Effy, depositing her gently into Ignis' hands. She's happy enough to let him cradle her, sniffing at his chest some before settling into his arms. "This is Effy," Noct tells him again. "Careful of her belly, she's got stitches from being fixed. Oh, and she's deaf," he adds, almost as an afterthought. 

Ignis' eye blinks, and he tilts his head down towards the cat in his arms, lifting one hand cautiously to run it along her fur. "She's soft," he says. "And seemingly not very big." 

Noct heads over to the table, dropping down into one of the seats there and pulling a plate to him. "Nah, she's only about four months old. Tiny. She's all white. Blue eyes. Pink nose and paw-pads. There's a cat tower directly in front of the right window pane in this room. Five levels, third is about even with your shoulders. You can set her on that." 

Ignis does so, inspecting the tower with his one hand briefly before releasing her. Effy climbs off, gently nudging his arm before climbing up to the fourth level and curling up in the hidey-hole that's there. 

"She likes you," Noct tells him as he comes over to the table and takes his own seat. 

"She seems friendly. Where did you find her?" 

Having just shovelled a forkful of food in his mouth, Noct takes a moment to chew and swallow before answering. "Out in the gardens the other night. I rescued her from some overgrown weeds. She sat in my lap and then started to follow me when I tried to leave." A tail winds around his leg, and he looks down to see Effy sitting by his chair, looking up at him hopefully. 

"You said she's deaf?" Ignis asks, starting in on his own meal. 

Noct rips off a small piece of meat from his cutlet, and tosses it down to the floor, smirking when Effy gobbles it up before it can even touch the carpet. "Yeah, the vet confirmed she can't hear sounds at all. I have to use alternate ways to get her attention, or teach her not to do something." 

"Hmm. So she's deaf, and I'm blind. That won't end in disaster at all," Ignis remarks, and Noct snorts. 

"I'm sure you two will figure each other out eventually," he says, tossing another piece of meat down. "Make friends with her, and she probably won't trip you up too much." 

Ignis gives him a teasing grin. "Indeed. Shall I spoil her and feed her bits of my meal like you're doing, perhaps?" 

Face reddening, Noct shoots a glare at Ignis and hopes it will magically be strong enough for him to feel. "Shut up," he grumbles, even as he tosses her a third piece of meat. "...She's cute, okay?" 

Ignis' grin softens, becoming more of a fond smile. "I'm glad you have her. Animals have been proven to be beneficial to people struggling with depression and other mental health issues. I hope she'll be able to help you as much as you help her." 

Ignoring the twisting of his stomach at the words 'mental health issues,' Noct looks down at Effy, reaching to gently scratch under her chin, making sure she sees his hand first. "No scoldings about taking in a stray cat?" he asks, referring to the lecture child-Ignis had given him the day he'd found Noct feeding Sol scraps of his lunch. 

"No," Ignis says, shaking his head, still smiling. "You're an adult now, with the proper resources, and able to do as you wish. You seem to have her care well in hand, as well, if you've somehow snuck off to a vet without anyone noticing." 

"Wasn't hard," Noct says, finally taking his own bite of meat again. "I just borrowed a car from Cor and went. As long as I text one of you, you guys never ask where I am." 

"An oversight we may reconsider in the future. Astrals forbid we let you run around unchecked. Who knows what sort of trouble you might get up to," Ignis teases. 

Noct simply rolls his eyes. 

* * *

The next morning Noct heads to his office, Effy perched on his shoulder, her tiny claws digging into him as she rides. When he gets there he pulls a spare litter pan and food and water dishes out of his Armiger, setting everything up for her in separate corners of the room while she watches curiously. 

That done, he carries her over to the window, opening it up for her as he deposits her on the sill. Her attention's caught almost immediately by a bird flying by, her jaw dropping open to chitter excitedly at it. The sound is surprisingly quiet, and Noct still hasn't worked out whether she has a naturally quiet voice or is under-compensating for not being able to hear herself. The vet had warned him she'd probably be loud, but so far she's been exactly the opposite. 

He watches her as she stalks to the other end of the window, raising up on her hind legs, her front paws on the glass as she tries to get at the birds outside. The bell on her collar jingles loudly as she jumps up several times, making Noct grimace. He'd taken it off when he bought it, not liking the noise, but after last night he realised it would help Ignis in being aware of her location, so with reluctance he'd put it back on this morning. 

"I see you brought Effy," Ignis remarks, stepping through the connecting doorway between their offices. 

"The Citadel's too big for her to wander, and I don't want to leave her stuck in my rooms all the time," Noct says, a tad defensively. 

"It was not meant to be a judgement." 

"Oh." Noct drops down into his chair, pulling Ignis' notes from the other day towards him. "Your notes are a few weeks old; how are we with our population and resources?" He's still trying to make an effort, and it's not that he doesn't care, because he _does_ , but this is all so much harder than he thought it'd be when he first made the decision to take Insomnia back. 

"Insomnia's still on the lockdown you ordered, which has helped considerably," Ignis tells him, taking a seat of his own. "The city has also begun tackling rebuilding efforts for some of the homes and apartment buildings in the surrounding neighbourhoods, which will give us more space once the lockdown is lifted." 

"Are we lifting it soon?" 

"That is up to you; however, I would not recommend doing so until at least after the start of the new year, and with limitations on who we allow in for the time being." 

Noct frowns. He really hates the restriction, hates denying anyone entry to the city, no matter how necessary it is, and he worries about the reaction to it, that people might get angry over being excluded and start causing trouble. 

He supposes he'll have to get used to it though—that's part of what being a king is, having to make tough decisions that are for the good of everyone, not just some people, but also knowing that not everyone will agree with his decision, or like it. "What about the farms?" 

"They're doing well, and Prompto has been looking into expanding them for next year, and getting some of the old greenhouses back in production as well," Ignis says. "At some point in the next year we will likely be able to begin importing again as the other nations get back on their feet, and food won't be as much of an issue then." 

"Importing? No one's going to do that for free, what could we possibly have to offer that soon?" 

"Resources, or currency, perhaps. It's merely theoretical for now. There will be time to worry about the particulars later, when we have need of them." 

"Currency? Kind of need a government to get that going..." 

"Indeed," Ignis says, getting to his feet. "As it happens, I've been working on that." Noct watches as he goes into his office, disappearing from view for a moment. "I've simply been waiting for your improvement to approach you about it." 

Noct blinks, not having expected that at all. Ignis comes back, holding a folder out to him. Noct takes it and flips through it, guilt barrelling into him as he sees all of Ignis' notes and outlines on a new government, and people to run it—he's clearly put a lot of thought and time into this, and all of it on his own, when none of it is even his responsibility. 

The guilt pulls at him, dragging him down. Noct should be the one doing all of this, he should be the one putting notes together and seeking Ignis' input when necessary, not crying and hiding away in his room, or running around thinking up dates and rescuing cats, all without any interest in running his own kingdom. 

Of course, there's the matter that he doesn't deserve it still, but Noct can't really fault anyone else for the position he's in—he'd saved Eos and rescued Insomnia, yeah, but he alone made the choice to come back. He could have disappeared into obscurity somewhere, lived out a quiet, unassuming life with his friends. Instead he'd come back, and attempted to reclaim his kingdom. He has no one to blame but himself. 

They work for awhile, Ignis going over his plans, outlining what he thinks should be kept the same as before, and what would work better with changes. Noct okays most of it, making a few suggestions of his own here and there, and it's not too bad, really—he finds himself getting into it more as they continue to discuss things, and it becomes easier to have genuine interest. 

And then Ignis begins talking about people he's considered for various positions, and that's where it all starts to fall apart. Noct _remembers_ some of those names that are spilling so casually from Ignis' lips, remembers their faces and their presences in and around the Citadel, memories popping into his mind so clearly that for several too long moments he feels like he's gone back in time. 

Blinking, he forcefully wrenches himself back to the present, sudden dizziness making his head swim, and before that can completely dissipate, he finds himself feeling _off_ , as if he's stuck behind something that's separating him from the rest of the world. The world itself begins to take on a dream-like, hazy quality, softening and blurring and feeling just a little unreal. 

Fuck, _why_ is this happening, why again, why now? He doesn't _want this_ , he's so tired of it, and he doesn't understand how or why it can go away for a few weeks and then come back again out of _nowhere_. He was getting better, he was happy, even if he was just avoiding things it was still _working_. Why can't it still work, why can't he just be okay? It feels so much worse now, having that little bit of bliss and then having it snatched cruelly away again. It hurts. 

Biting down on his lip, Noct swallows hard as he fights back frustrated tears. He does his best to stay calm, not wanting Ignis to realise that anything's wrong. He's still ashamed, and doesn't want to make Ignis deal with him. Ignis has already taken care of him so much, Noct can't keep putting that on him, especially not now that they're in a relationship. 

But he can't sit through all this talk of government when he's feeling like this, either. He needs to do _something_ , needs contact, needs something to connect him to the world again. The only thing he can think to do is kiss Ignis again, like last time, but it'll be suspicious if he does that out of nowhere. Ignis will know something's wrong. So for now, he keeps quiet as Ignis continues to talk. 

"Excuse me a moment," Ignis says several minutes later as he gets up, presumably going to the bathroom. Once he's gone, Noct decides it's as good an opportunity as any, and gets up and goes to the door to wait. When Ignis gets back a short while later, Noct makes his move. "Ignis," he says, alerting Ignis to his new position in the room, and then grabs onto Ignis' shirt and yanks him down into a kiss. 

He's not entirely sure what he's doing. His head's swimming still, foggy and confused and upset, angry with himself and the situation, embarrassed that he could have ever thought he was getting better. He's ashamed that he needs Ignis still, and doesn't want to admit it. 

He should. He should suck it up and just ask Ignis to hold him. Ignis will worry, though, and be upset—he's been so relieved to see Noct so happy lately, even if he hasn't actually said as much. Noct doesn't want to take that away from him. But he doesn't want to sit there and feel disconnected from everything for who knows how long either. And if he isn't telling Ignis, all there is to do is kiss him, and hope it works as it did last time. He doesn't know what else to do. 

"Trying to avoid your responsibilities, Noct?" Ignis asks as he pulls back. His voice is uneven and rough, husky from being kissed, and despite everything Noct feels arousal flare, going straight to his cock as it begins to harden. 

"I don't know, did it work?" Noct shoots back, glad Ignis has come up with an excuse for him. 

Ignis leans down and kisses him in lieu of an answer, claiming his mouth forcefully with a swipe of his tongue as he lets his hands wander down Noct's sides, gripping his hips, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. In return, Noct reaches up, looping his arms around Ignis' neck, pulling him in close, deepening the kiss. 

He can't help the soft moan that escapes as Ignis abandons his mouth to trail down the side of his neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. Ignis stops at the hollow of his throat to suckle hard at the tender flesh there, and Noct tips his head back to give him better access, eyes fluttering at the sensations as Ignis marks him. 

It isn't enough, though. His reality's not quite real yet, everything seems so distant still, and he's so hard, his dick aching for friction, to be touched, _anything_. He needs Ignis, needs more _contact_. Noct slides his arms down, skimming his hands over Ignis' back to grab onto his hips, yanking him in even closer, pressing their bodies flush against each other, hissing out a breath when he feels Ignis' hard length dig into him. 

"The door," Ignis mumbles against his skin. His fingers are toying with the hem of Noct's shirt, slipping under it to glide gently along his stomach, making the muscles ripple with the touch, and it takes Noct several long seconds to register that Ignis has spoken. 

"What about it?" 

"We should lock it." His fingers dip below the waistband of Noct's pants, underneath his boxers, to brush against the soft curls there. 

Noct's whole body shivers, his dick twitching. "Yeah, okay," he breathes out, and pulls away reluctantly to do as Ignis said. 

It takes him longer than he'd like to do the lock, and when he turns back around, Ignis is stripping his underwear off, the rest of his clothes in a neat pile on his chair. Noct bends down to slip off his shoes, and then watches him for a moment, admiring his lithe body, and in particular his dick, hard and heavy against his stomach, the tip already dripping precum and practically begging for Noct to put his mouth around it. 

Swallowing hard, he pulls his shirt off in one fluid motion as he steps towards Ignis. He wishes he could feel the ground beneath his feet. "You don't waste time," he says, fumbling to undo his pants. 

Ignis smirks in his direction. "Yes, well. Efficiency is a virtue." 

Noct steps out of his pants and leaves them where they fall, taking the few more steps to where Ignis is waiting. Reaching out, he places his hands back on Ignis' hips, enjoying the heated feel of Ignis' skin beneath his palms, and begins backing him towards the desk until the backs of Ignis' thighs bump into it. 

Using his foot to nudge Ignis' legs apart, he slides his own leg between them, getting in close. Feeling so much of Ignis against him helps ground him, bringing him closer to reality again. "You look so hot right now," he murmurs, and closes his mouth around one brown nipple. 

Ignis hisses, his hands coming up to tangle in Noct's hair as Noct's tongue begins tracing wet circles around the stiff nub, sucking and biting none too gently at it. His fingers tighten, wrapping around strands of Noct's hair, tugging lightly at it. "Not so rough," he says hoarsely, and Noct obediently gentles his actions. 

He soon switches his attention to the other nipple, tasting and teasing while his hands drift down further, one cupping Ignis' balls while the other wraps loosely around his dick. Noct strokes him gently, running his thumb across the head and smearing precum around until Ignis is a gasping and writhing mess against him, arching his hips up, seeking more friction. His hands are roaming all along Noct's body now, fingernails scraping roughly against the skin, leaving small scratches that will probably sting later. 

"Noct," he whines—actually _whines_ , and gods, it's such a heady rush of pleasure to see Ignis so undone like this, knowing he's the one responsible for it, that Ignis trusts him enough to let go of his usually tightly held control. 

Noct lets Ignis' nipple slip from his mouth, tipping his head up to press a gentle kiss against the hollow of Ignis' throat, licking at the sweat that's gathered there, the taste salty but not wholly unpleasant. "Wanna blow you," he mumbles, and Ignis shudders. 

"By all means," he gasps out, the noise turning into a moan as Noct presses his thumb into the slit. 

Dropping to his knees, Noct rocks back on his heels, parting Ignis' legs further with his hands. Ignis' thighs are firm beneath his palms, flushed and heated and gorgeous, and Noct litters them with soft kisses, nipping at the tender skin. Some of Ignis' precum has dripped down one thigh, and Noct laps at it eagerly, drinking up the sweet taste of it. 

He takes his time without really meaning to, each kiss dragging him further from his earlier stress and letting him get lost in the intoxicating sight and taste and sound of Ignis, who's still gasping above him, his legs trembling and his dick twitching desperately as Noct continues to ignore it. His own dick is aching with desire, precum leaking out to streak wetly across his stomach, but he pays it little mind, too caught up in how surprisingly good it feels to make _Ignis_ feel good. 

"Noct, have mercy," Ignis finally pants, and Noct pauses for a moment, startled. 

"Sorry Specs," he mutters, and then sucks the tip of Ignis' cock into his mouth. The reaction he gets is immediate—Ignis bucks his hips, driving himself further into Noct's mouth, a low moan rolling from his lips as his hands scrabble for purchase and find it in Noct's shoulders, gripping them tightly. 

Noct waits a moment for Ignis to settle, not wanting to get choked, and when Ignis is still again, he carefully takes more of him in, letting his tongue slide along the underside of it, hollowing his cheeks and attempting to suck hard. This is only his second time and he's still uncertain about what to do, what might feel good, but he tries to go with the moment and not overthink it too much. 

"Good, that's good, Noct," Ignis says, each word a breathless sigh, "so good, keep going..." 

Noct flushes. It makes him feel good, to hear Ignis praise and encourage him so. It emboldens him, too, and he begins to bob his head some, letting Ignis slip nearly all the way out before swallowing him down again, trying to curl his tongue around the tip where he knows Ignis will be most sensitive. 

Everything else falls away then, the world fading to the background, all other sights and sounds disappearing, all of it narrowing to just him and Ignis, to his lips wrapped around Ignis' dick, to Ignis' head thrown back in pleasure, Ignis' moans and cries and the obscene noise of his own sucking filling his ears. He forgets his upset, forgets the anxiety and the memories and the distressing sensation of dissociation, none of it mattering in this moment, in the here and now where it's just the two of them. 

His cock throbs hot between his legs, yearning for attention. Noct slides a hand down, wrapping it around his cock, and begins to jerk himself roughly, just the way he likes it, his thumb gliding over the head with each upward stroke and smearing his precum everywhere. Pleasure winds through him, and Noct groans around the dick in his mouth, making a shiver ripple through Ignis' body in response. 

"Noct... I'm close..." 

Noct lets out a hum of acknowledgement rather than pull away to speak, not wanting to break the rhythm he's managed with either dick, but he's not expecting it when Ignis comes with a hoarse cry only seconds later, his fingers digging harshly into Noct's shoulders as he shoots down Noct's throat. Noct's still not any more enamoured of the texture this time, but he ignores it in favour of getting himself off, speeding up his strokes until he's spilling messily into his own hand within the minute, Ignis' softening cock slipping from his mouth. 

Ignis sags heavily against the desk, breathing hard. Noct gets up and falls forward against him, burying his head into Ignis' chest and throwing his arms around him in a loose hold. Ignis brings up one shaky arm to curl around him in return, fingers resting lightly against his back. "That was... not how I expected this day to go," Ignis says, and Noct grins into his chest. 

A jingling noise followed by soft thud on the desk alerts them to the curious presence of Effy, right before she nudges her head into their sides. 

"Effy, no," Noct sighs, knowing she can't hear him. 

"Be glad she didn't come over while we were otherwise... occupied," Ignis says with amusement. 

"Yeah," Noct agrees. Reluctantly he disentangles himself from Ignis, leaning over to pick up Effy and carry her back to the windowsill. "Stay," he tells her, knowing it's entirely pointless. 

He walks across the room to get his clothes then, and realisation occurs to him—he can feel the floor beneath his feet again. The room is normal around him. He's not dissociating. He closes his eyes in relief for a moment, and then bends down to grab his pants and underwear. 

He's not sure whether it was the sex or just a coincidence that made his dissociation stop, but either way, he's not going to complain. It's gone for now, and that's all that he wanted. 

* * *

"Noct! When did you get a cat!" Prompto cries as he spies Effy curled up asleep on the back of the couch, already rushing towards her. "It's so cute!" 

"Stop!" Noct barks out, and Prompto halts in immediate confusion, stumbling as he loses his balance and tries to keep himself from falling. 

"What? What's wrong?" Prompto cries, looking wildly around him. 

"Sorry," Noct says sheepishly, shutting the door Prompto had left wide open. "It's just, she's deaf. You'll scare her if you wake her up by touching her." 

"Oh, poor kitty," Prompto says, looking towards her. "Is it hard for her?" 

"Nah, she's fine," Noct says. "You just have to do things a little differently with her. Watch." Prompto looks on curiously as Noct goes over to the couch, standing just behind the cat. He jumps when Noct suddenly hits the couch firmly with the palm of his hand, saying "Effy" in a loud and clear voice. 

"What are you doing?" Prompto asks, frowning, but Noct ignores him, repeating his actions. 

After a few more times, Effy finally lifts her head, blinking sleepy eyes at Noct. "Wake up, sleepy," he croons at her, gently scratching around her ears. She yawns, getting to her feet and arching her tiny back in a stretch. Noct picks her up, cradling her to his chest as he carries her over to Prompto. "Meet Effy," he says. 

"She's adorable," Prompto says, extending his hand for her to sniff. 

"Yeah," Noct agrees with a smile. 

"When did you you get her?" Prompto asks again, cautiously running a single finger along the length of her back. 

"She won't break, Prompto," Noct says, amused. "You can pet her like you would any other cat, as long as you make sure she sees you first. Here." He puts Effy into Prompto's arms, and flops down onto the couch. "I got her several days ago," he says then. "She was stuck out in the gardens and I freed her." 

"Aw, poor thing," Prompto says, scratching under Effy's chin. She closes her eyes, purring loudly. "Does Ignis know you have her?" 

"Yeah. He said he was glad. Something about hoping she could help me." Noct grabs a controller, starting up the game that's been looping on the screen for the past several minutes. He waves the controller in the air, towards his best friend. "You gonna play?" 

"You can play first," Prompto says, gently putting Effy down and grabbing one of her toys off the floor. 

"How magnanimous," Noct says, smirking as Prompto tries unsuccessfully to get his cat interested in the little felt mouse he's tossing near her. "She likes the laser pointer best. It's on my dresser." 

Prompto finds it easily, and spends several minutes getting her to chase it around, laughing and grinning at the way she jumps high up on the wall after that little red dot, and even climbs up her tower in pursuit of it. "Does she help?" he asks eventually, glancing back towards Noct. 

Noct shrugs, meeting his eyes. "Dunno," he says honestly. 

When Effy ignores the laser in favour of heading towards her food dish, Prompto finally leaves her alone, plopping down on the sofa next to Noct and grabbing the controller from his hands. 

"Hey!" Noct pouts, giving a haughty sniff. "Rude." 

Prompto flashes a grin at him before taking out the templar Noct had been sneaking towards. Then he makes a face. "Dude, how can you play like this?" 

Noct scowls at him. "Shut up. I don't get how you could _not_ invert the y-axis. It makes no sense that way." 

"Whatever, man." Prompto rolls his eyes, playing for a few more moments while Noct watches. "You've seemed better lately, you know." 

He thinks with guilt of his dissociation that's come back recently, and his nightmares, and the shameful way he'd desperately fled from the throne room a month ago. The panic attack he'd nearly had in Lestallum, crying in humiliation as he'd held Effy tight and spent half an hour trying to calm down. "I guess," he says. He sighs. "I'm not going to do anything stupid again, if that's what you're worried about." 

"It wasn't stupid," Prompto says, setting the controller aside, and Noct raises his eyebrows at him. "I mean, yeah, it kinda was, but... I get it, ya know? Maybe not your exact situation, but when I was younger, before we were friends... I thought about ending my life once or twice." 

Noct looks over at his best friend, eyes wide. "I didn't know," he said quietly. 

Prompto shrugs, the movement jerky and uncoordinated. "It was a long time ago. I never think about it anymore. I'm glad now that I never went through with it. I'm glad you survived too, even if you're not sure about it." He pauses. "What I'm trying to say, buddy, is that I've been there, and I'm here for you, if you ever wanna talk about it, or are considering trying again." 

Noct bites down at his lip, thinking of how many times he's already considered it since his first failed attempt. Not so much in the past few weeks, but it's crossed his mind once or twice recently, after a nightmare, or when he'd looked at himself in the mirror. He's not going to tell that to Prompto, though. He means it when he says he's never going to try again, and he wants his friends to believe that. Admitting to the opposite won't help in building that broken trust. 

"Thanks," he finally says softly, not letting on to any of his thoughts. "I'll keep that in mind." 

"Good." Prompto smiles, and picks the controller back up, holding it out to him. "Now, how about we assassinate some guards—see who can go the longest without drawing their attention?" 

After a brief hesitation, Noct takes the controller from him, smiling back. "You're on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, so I might take a week off from posting, I haven't quite decided yet. I haven't written anything new on this since around the time I was posting chapter ten, because school was so crazy with homework for that while, and also my chronic headaches have been bad lately and I've been depressed, so I just haven't had the energy to write. I _have_ started writing again in the past couple of days, but it's been on my hurt noct week fic, not this one. I'm hoping to get to this one too, what with spring break, but I'll be honest, there's a good chance I'll spend all my time playing through ffxv again thanks to the royal edition. Sorry XD I do have chapter 13 written, so I might post it next week, but that'll leave me with nothing in reserve if I don't write anything new, and that causes me stress, which makes my head worse, and I try to avoid that. So that's why I'm not sure yet.
> 
> If I _do_ skip next week, I will post the week after for sure, even if I still haven't written anything new. But really, I'll probably have written more by then, I do love this fic and I _want_ to work on it. I still promise it won't be abandoned!  <3
> 
> Thank you guys for all your love for this fic, I know I always say this, but it's because I mean it so damn much. Like I get ridiculously emotional over it all. So yeah, thank you, I love you all ♥


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I come bringing a new chapter! And I've started writing on this fic again, hooray. Once I finished my hurt noct week fic and got it out of my system, this was easier to go back to working on. Anyways, this chapter hopefully brings the angst, and if you need some reassurance, is also the beginning of the catalyst for change. Vaguely. Minorly. Enjoy your suffering! (◕‿◕✿)

"Noct, have you heard a word I've said?" Ignis' exasperated tone cuts through the mess of nervous thoughts that Noct's brain currently is, making him blink and look up.

"No?" he offers, trying to go for sheepish and apologetic, but instead it comes out anxious. He sighs. 

Iris is downstairs in the lobby of the Citadel at this very moment, talking to Gladio. Noct hasn't seen her since his return—she'd been only fifteen when he'd saw her last, standing on the dock of the safe house in Cape Caem, waving to him as he'd sailed away towards Altissia, and his doomed fate. 

Now she's twenty-five, all grown-up, and most certainly changed a lot. He's scared to see her. They've given her and Gladio privacy for the moment, since they haven't seen each other in nearly a year—Gladio had been wildly excited the past few days since he first got word that she was coming, and it was both amusing and annoying enough watching him to not think about seeing Iris again, but now, knowing she'll be up here within the hour, he feels sick. 

Soft fur brushes against his arm, startling him, and he comes out of his thoughts a second time to find Ignis depositing Effy gently on his desk. Automatically he begins petting her, both the repetitive motion and the feel of her beneath him soothing, which he knows is what Ignis had been hoping for. 

"You're worried," Ignis says, retaking his seat. 

Noct simply grunts, not wanting to admit it out loud, but unable to deny it. "What's Iris been doing the past ten years?" he asks, scratching under Effy's chin. It's a risky question for a distraction, but he is genuinely curious. 

"I believe she helped out with the relief efforts in Lestallum for the first year or so, but eventually talked the Marshal into giving her better combat training, and once he deemed her good enough the two of them began teaming up and hunting daemons together," Ignis says, frowning thoughtfully. "I'm afraid I don't know any more than that, but I ran into her a couple of times over the years and she seems to have become quite a competent young woman." 

_Young woman._ Noct's stomach clenches at those words. It's a maddening reaction, if he's honest with himself. He doesn't want to be like this. He doesn't want to be scared that seeing people he cares about is going to trigger him into stressful panic attacks or dissociating. And he's still angry that they've even started happening again. 

He only has himself to blame for that, though. There's been times over the past month when he'd come close to one, but he'd been in such denial that he'd managed to push them away, trying his damnedest to believe that he was fine—and he almost wants to go back to that now, if only so he doesn't have to feel this way anymore. "Good for her," he says, meaning it sincerely. 

There's a knock at the door before Ignis can respond, and then Iris and Gladio are there, standing in the doorway. Gladio's large frame fills most of it, but Noct barely notices, completely focused on Iris. His stomach cramps with anxiety at the sight of her, and he recognises the immediate feeling of the room distorting around him. 

Like his friends the first time he'd seen them, Iris is both recognisable and not at the same time. Same eyes, same nose, same bright smile, still favouring plaid skirts and combat boots, but... She certainly can't be mistaken for fifteen anymore. She's taller, and filled out more. Her hair's longer, just past her shoulders, and pulled back into a neat braid. There are several scars scattered across her face and arms, including a prominent one starting at the bridge of her nose and curving down under her left eye. 

"Noct!" she squeals, running towards him. 

He stands, stepping out from behind his desk just in time for Iris to reach him and fling her arms around him in a tight hug. "Hi, Iris," he says, and tries not to lose his shit. He suspects he wouldn't be half as distressed if he didn't let himself get so worked up over the possibility of it, and stopped obsessing over the fact that he lost ten years, but he doesn't know how to stop himself. 

She pulls back, looking over him. "You look so much more grown-up now," she says, smiling at him, and it takes everything in him not to flinch at that. 

"So do you," he returns, and hopes that no one heard the slight catch in his voice. Why does he care so much, he shouldn't care, it was only ten years, it's _not a big deal_. Why can't he get himself to just believe that? 

Iris smirks. "I would hope so. It's nice to not be so little anymore." 

"You're still my baby sister, though," Gladio says, stepping up and dragging her in for a one-armed hug. 

"Gladdy, stop, you'll mess up my hair!" she cries, laughing as she shoves at him. 

He lets her go, reaching up to ruffle at her hair. "Since when have you cared about a thing like that?" he asks, but Iris simply sticks her tongue out at him. Noct watches them, hating how tiny and distant he feels, wishing he could just hold Ignis tight and not think about anything else right now. He wonders if Iris still has a crush on him, and how she'd react if he were to suddenly cross the room and kiss Ignis. 

It's an amusing thought, but Noct won't do it in front of her, not only because he doesn't want to hurt her, but because he's pretty sure Ignis might actually kill him. Still, he finds himself trying to think of excuses for Iris to leave already so that Noct _can_ kiss him. Ignis seemed to provide such wonderful distractions the last two times, and Noct wants that again. And whether he's in the mood for it or not, he always ends up enjoying it, and Ignis too, so that's all more the reason to do it. 

He retakes his seat, watching as Ignis interrupts the banter to ask after Iris. Gladio stands beside her, glowing with happiness. From what Noct's gleaned in his enthusiastic rambling the past few days, Gladio's apparently been asking her to come to Insomnia for months now, but she's always previously rebuffed him, saying she wasn't sure if she wanted to return—something that had led to an argument and weeks of silence. 

For Gladio's sake, he's glad she's finally come to visit, but he wishes he didn't have to be here for it. It's a terrible thought, one that makes his face heat up with mortification that it's even crossing his mind, because it's not that he's _not_ appreciative of the chance to see her, he just wants it to not be so hard. 

"Oh, Noct, you have a cat!" Iris exclaims suddenly, derailing his thoughts. 

"Effy," Noct says as she reaches for the kitten, and goes through his usual explanation of her rescue and deafness. 

"She's adorable," Iris says, petting her gently. 

"Yeah." 

"It's nearly lunchtime, is it not?" Ignis asks then. "Iris, you and Gladio are more than welcome to join Noct and myself." 

Noct resists the urge to frown—he and Ignis still have lunch together most days, so it's a fair assumption now that they would today, but he'd been hoping to skip lunch, or at least use it as a chance to take a breather from how stressful it is to be around Iris. He's still dissociating, and though he's keeping calm, it's taking a lot out of him to do so. He wants to break down and rail against the world for unfair how everything is, how he can't just be fucking _normal_ and accept things as they are. It's not like the entire rest of his life has been normal, so why does he so desperately want this to be different? The Astrals dealt him a shit hand and now he has to live with it. 

"That'd be great!" Iris says, smiling wide at Noct. He smiles back, trying to look like he means it. 

He's quiet while they all get lunch, thankful when Prompto joins them as well—between his and Gladio's prattle about the state of Insomnia the past few months, only Ignis notices that Noct's not saying much. "Everything alright?" he murmurs, reaching for Noct's hand under the table. 

"Yeah," Noct says softly, trying to sound reassuring and not like he's about to lose it and start yelling at any second. He takes Ignis' hand, giving it a quick squeeze, feeling more grounded just by that small contact. "Just had different plans in mind for lunch." 

"My apologies. I shouldn't have presumed." 

"It's fine," Noct says, and maybe it's not, but at least he's not involuntarily falling apart into a pathetic sobbing mess for once. 

After that, he tries to focus on the conversation, so that Ignis won't worry."You planning on staying?" Prompto is asking Iris as he tunes in, referring to Insomnia, and Noct leans in, curious about the answer himself. 

"I'm not sure," she answers. "I don't know what I'd do here." 

"You can always join the Crownsguard," Noct tells her, hardly believing he's giving a reason to stay. "I'm sure Cor would welcome you, and they could definitely use you, if you're as good as Gladio's been bragging." 

"Maybe!" she says brightly. "I'll consider all my options." 

It's a non-answer, and Noct can tell Gladio's not happy with it, but he's not bothered enough to press the issue. She's clearly grown now and capable of making her own life choices, she can do whatever she wants. And if that happens to be something outside of Insomnia, that suits him just fine for now. 

Thankfully, they all split up once they're done eating—Prompto to return to whatever he was working on, and Gladio and Iris to presumably get some more sibling bonding time in. Noct doesn't really care, he just wants everything to stop feeling so far away from him. 

He drags Ignis back to the office, and as soon as they're alone with the door shut behind them, Noct is on him, kissing him like their lives depend on it. It's a little desperate, perhaps, but then, he _is_ desperate. Desperate to be normal, to stop feeling so out of place in his own life. 

"Your different plans, I presume?" Ignis asks when they break apart, a flush already creeping across his face. 

"Yep," Noct says, and kisses him again, pressing him into the wall. It's not long before he's on his knees giving Ignis a blowjob. He's still not great at it, nor entirely in the mood for it, and the position makes his knee ache something fierce, but it's _contact_ , skin on skin as his hands grip Ignis' thighs while he swallows Ignis' dick down, and it's a turn-on to hear the harsh gasps and quiet moans he wrings out of his boyfriend, and the low groan he makes when he comes into Noct's mouth. It doesn't stop the troublesome sensations of dissociating entirely, but it helps, lessening them enough so that doesn't feel so completely disconnected. 

It's easier when Ignis returns the favour. Noct's seated on the edge of his desk, the back end of a stapler digging uncomfortably into his ass, his fingers buried tightly in Ignis' hair as Ignis leans forward from his spot in Noct's chair and does things with his mouth and tongue that have Noct moaning louder than he should be. Everything else finally stops then, his distress melting away as he focuses solely on the pleasure coursing through his body. 

"Shh, not so loud," Ignis murmurs, pulling back briefly for a breather. "We're not the only ones working in this area anymore." 

"Feels too good," Noct whines, whimpering when Ignis takes him in once more. He bites down on his lip, trying to keep quiet, but that starts up thoughts in his head again, ones he doesn't like, so he stops holding back the noise. Ignis doesn't shush him this time, but he does reach a hand up, fumbling a moment until he's covering Noct's mouth tightly, his fingers and thumb gripping the edges of Noct's jaw, and somehow that just makes Noct even harder. 

It only takes him a few more minutes to come, his cries muffled by Ignis' palm. He rides through the orgasm, Ignis still suckling at him, and even when he's a sobbing, trembling mess of too sensitive overstimulation, Ignis doesn't let up until Noct's begging into his hand, crying for him to stop. 

Ignis moves away then, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, and Noct slides off his desk, collapsing bonelessly into his chair. He feels... not great, but _okay_ , the world's not so distant and far away anymore, and even if he wasn't into it at first, the sex was good, so if this is how he has to deal with his dissociation for now, it doesn't seem so bad. He'll take what he can get. 

* * *

"Noct! Take me on a tour of the Citadel!" 

Noct blinks, looking at Iris in confusion, ignoring the way his stomach momentarily rolls when he remembers all over again that she's not fifteen now. "Why aren't you with Gladio?" 

She pouts, putting her hands on her hips as she comes to a stop in front of his desk. "He had to help Cor with something, he'll be busy the next hour. Come on, we haven't seen each other in over ten years, don't you want to spend time with me?" 

_A little less than a year_ , Noct's traitorous brain thinks, but out loud he simply says, "We saw each other yesterday. And you've seen the Citadel thousands of times." 

"Noctis, are you trying to avoid me?" 

_Yes._ "No. It's just, I've got work." 

They both hear Ignis' disbelieving snort from the other room, and okay, so Noct _has_ been sitting at his desk for the past two hours doing nothing other than browsing on his phone and texting Prompto, but still. Iris doesn't have to know that. "You might as well go," Ignis says, not getting up from his own desk. "I'll be busy getting in touch with several people that were a part of Insomnia's old government." 

His stomach flips over unpleasantly again, and he can read into what Ignis isn't saying. There will probably be talk of the past, and reminders of Insomnia's fall, and its previous king. His dad. Even if Ignis is unaware of his latest dissociations, he's worried enough that he doesn't want Noct present for the conversations. 

He's right to be, because Noct's pretty sure it will upset him, but it's also upsetting that there's even a need for him to leave. And this is _his_ kingdom, he should be the one doing this, and yet he's still letting it all fall to Ignis... He sighs, looking up at Iris. She's only a marginally better alternative, but perhaps it'll be like Prompto and Gladio—he just needs to spend more time with her and get used to the new Iris. "Let's go then," he says. 

She smiles at him. "Lead the way!" she says cheerfully. 

He heads out after Ignis' assurance that he'll look after Effy, and they wander around the Citadel aimlessly, Noct half-heartedly pointing out random rooms to her as they go. It reminds him of the little tour she'd taken him on in Lestallum, and both the reminder and the reversal make him uncomfortable. That had been not long after the fall of Insomnia, and she had been trying a little too hard for his sake to pretend everything was okay. Now he's the one doing that, and he doesn't like it. 

Iris lingers in the doorways of several of the rooms, looking curiously at them, and it occurs to him then that for all her frequent presence here during her childhood, there'd been a lot of areas she hadn't been allowed in. Feeling guilty for trying to rush and dismiss her, he takes it slower after that, taking the time to explain the purpose and history of some of the rooms she's never seen, giving her a proper tour. It's easier on him, too, because then he's focused on what he's saying, and not the fact that Iris is yet another constant reminder of his lost ten years. 

At some point in their meandering, they reach the throne room. Noct swallows down the immediate and visceral fear that rises, preparing to pass by, but Iris halts at the closed door, looking at the new plaque curiously. "Ooh, Noct, I've never seen the throne before, can we go in?" She doesn't wait for an answer, pulling on the handles and slipping inside. 

"Iris, wait!" he tries, but she doesn't answer. She's probably half way across the room by now. He groans, trying to ignore the sudden rapid pulsing of his heart. He doesn't want to be this close to the room. It holds too much pain for him. He turns away from the doors, body tense as he waits for Iris to finish her inspection and rejoin him. 

A few minutes pass, and then several more. His breathing is quickening now, bile ascending up from his stomach as unpleasant memories try to crowd into his brain, and Iris still hasn't come back out. 

Steeling himself, he steps in the doorway, intending merely to call Iris back and get the hell away to another floor entirely, but the second his eyes sweep unfocused over the room, he's tossed vividly into the past, seeing nothing but crumbled ruins and cruel imitations of distorted, grotesque corpses hanging from the ceiling, swaying gently but somehow with a stillness to them that's unnatural even in death. Ardyn's lounging on the throne, giving him a lazy, amused grin, and he holds out his hand and Noct hears the thud of his friends' bodies behind him as they fall frozen to the floor. 

"No," Noct hears himself say, but the sound of his own voice is so far away, and acid is burning his throat now, his chest heaving in confused panic, because Ardyn is dead, Noct killed him, he shouldn't be here. He's already been through this, he can't do it a second time, _he can't relive this_. 

Ardyn laughs, warping up to the torn away wall nearby, a wicked grin still adorning his face as he looks down at Noct and tips his fedora. Then Ardyn's warping at him, flinging his body straight at Noct, and Noct wants to move, _tries_ to move, but he's frozen in uncertain horror, his feet stuck to the floor, and he can only stand there helplessly, keening with a low, terrified moan. 

Ardyn passes painlessly through him, and it's shocking enough to break Noct's immobility, his body whirling around on instinct to face his enemy—only there's nothing but empty air. Ardyn's gone. A cry comes from the throne, and Noct turns back around, a moan of denial escaping his throat this time as he sees what's there. 

It's him, sitting there on the throne, the thirty-year old body that he doesn't recognise, fingers grasping tightly to the arms of the chair as the ghosts of past rulers surround him. He watches in sick disbelief as they run their swords through him one by one, and feels the pain in his chest worsen with each successive thrust. 

"No, no, stop," he gasps, stumbling back from the painful sight. His chest is tight, constricted by a heavy band wrapped around it, and he clutches at it, trying to draw in a full breath. He closes his eyes, squeezing them shut as hard as he can, feeling sobs bubble up deep within him, wretchedly trying to claw their way out, but he swallows them down, afraid he'll vomit if he allows anything to come up. 

Closing his eyes doesn't help. The blackness is disorienting. His head spins, dizzy and nauseating, and even without looking he stills feel the phantom swords tearing into him, making him sway with the pain. The smell of blood and sweat and the ichor of daemons is permeating the air, so thick he nearly gags on it, and he can feel it all over himself, staining his skin and clothes, slick and viscous at the same time. 

It's a memory, he _knows_ it has to be, but it feels so real, and he's not sure he's not back there, experiencing it all again. "Stop," he tries again, and sinks slowly to the floor, curling in on himself as the past continues to assault him. "Please, please stop. It hurts too much, _stop_." 

When Noct finally comes back to himself, Ignis is there, saying his name over and over, holding him while Noct clings to him desperately as he cries and struggles to breathe. "Ignis," he says, and his voice is hoarse, his throat raw. His face feels soaked in tears, his eyes swollen and aching, his entire body hot and sticky and uncomfortable. Noct wonders with humiliation how long he's been out of it. 

"It's alright, Noct, I've got you," Ignis says gently. 

Noct shudders, tightening his hold on Ignis' arm. His head's still swimming in foggy confusion, and he can't feel the floor beneath him, but Ignis is as solid and real as always. "I want to go to my room," he says urgently. "Now. _Please_." 

Ignis helps him to his feet, and as they leave Noct catches a glimpse of Iris, standing off to the side, her face stricken. Then they're gone, and Noct puts her out of his mind. When they reach his room Noct heads for his bed immediately. Ignis follows, tugging at his shoes and shirt until Noct gives in and helps get them off, his pants following. 

By now, his breathing's steadied, so he curls up on the bed and floats in his disconnected reality while Ignis disappears into his bathroom. The first touch of the cool washcloth to his skin startles him, making him flinch violently, and Ignis pauses, whispering soothingly to him. "It's only me, Noct. I won't hurt you, it's alright." 

After a moment and a deep breath, Noct relaxes, allowing Ignis to run the cloth gently over his body, wiping away his tears and sweat, cooling him down. Then Ignis is climbing into the bed as well, curling loosely behind him, a hand coming up to stroke softly through his hair, letting further tension gradually drain out of him. 

"Iggy," Noct mumbles, the name barely comprehensible. Exhaustion's dragging over him, leaving his body leaden and worn-out with all that it's just been through. 

"Hmm?" Ignis murmurs, but Noct doesn't know. He's so tired, and sad, and he _hurts_. 

A quiet knock sounds at the door, and after Ignis gives permission, footsteps tread through the sitting room to the bedroom, Prompto's head poking cautiously in. Noct watches him, aware that he's in nothing more than his underwear, but he doesn't have the energy to cover up, or care. He's beyond embarrassment now. "Iris said... Well, I brought Effy back," Prompto says, looking anxiously at Noct. 

"Thank you, Prompto," Ignis says after a moment when Noct remains silent. Prompto comes over to the bed, carefully setting the kitten next to Noct's stomach, and she instantly settles down, snuggling her small body against him as she begins to purr loudly. 

"Feel better buddy," Prompto says then, and beats a hasty retreat. 

Noct closes his eyes once his best friend's gone. Ignis' fingers are still entangled in his hair, petting him, and it feels good, steady and soothing. At the same time, it's so tender and caring that Noct wants to cry, his heart aching, because whatever happened back in the throne room, Ignis now knows he's still not okay. "I'm sorry," he says, his words still quiet and slurred with fatigue. 

Ignis' hand stills a moment. "Whatever for?" 

"Wanted to be better for you. Let you down." He's half-asleep now, and more honest than he might otherwise have been, only partially aware of what he's saying. 

"You've done no such thing," Ignis says firmly, his hand resuming its comforting motions. "I was under no illusions that being in a relationship with me would make you 'better,' as you say." 

Noct's eyes water, burning with the hot tears he forcefully holds back. "I was," he admits, voice hitching. "I thought... I was _happy_." 

"Oh, Noct." Ignis' tone is heartbroken, full of sorrow, causing the tears to finally spill over, slipping silently down Noct's cheeks. Ignis says nothing more, merely curling his free arm over Noct's side, tugging him in closer and holding him tight. Noct lets himself go then, small, broken sobs working their way painfully out of him, his body shuddering with grief. His chest is tight, the pain almost tangible, sharp and intense, a crushing pressure that makes it hard to breathe again. 

Everything is just... too much. It's all so overwhelming, more than ever before, and he's so sick of dealing with it all, so tired of feeling pathetic and broken and weak. He wants it all to stop, to never have to experience any of these terrible feelings or sensations ever again, to permanently block out all the memories and nightmares so that they're not a constant loop of horror playing out in front of his eyes. 

He thinks back with guilty longing to the day he'd tried to kill himself, swallowing all those pills down with an odd sort of calm, feeling more numb than anything. He'd said he wasn't going to ever try again, that he didn't want to hurt his friends, hurt _Ignis_ , but... if he did, they'd move on eventually, wouldn't they? They'd already accepted the possibility of him dying before, when he'd went alone to purge the starscourge. They'd be sad, but they'd learn to live without him— 

Gods, what is he thinking? He can't do that to them. Even if it's tempting, even if doing it would finally end everything, so he wouldn't have to feel this way anymore, or cry like a child over his lost years, or constantly deal with the stress of panic and dissociation— 

His thoughts only make him cry harder, wrenching more wracking sobs out of him, and it's wearying, but he can't seem to stop. 

As if he senses what Noct's thinking, Ignis dips his head, pressing his lips softly to the nape of Noct's neck. "I love you," he murmurs, and gods, it's the first time either of them has said it, and it should make Noct _glad_ to hear it, but instead guilt coils up tight in his gut, because Ignis _loves_ him, and Noct loves him too, but he has no idea _how_. He's always loved Ignis in some sense, and he doesn't know how to untangle that and slot it into neat little compartments of close friendship and romantic love. Or if the differences even matter—maybe _Ignis_ doesn't even mean romantically right now. 

More than that, though, is the fact that Ignis loves him, enough to tell him, and to hold him and comfort him when he's falling apart, and all the while Noct's thoughts have been of selfish suicidal yearning—of leaving Ignis to live without him, justifying it with a poor excuse that Ignis would get over it—and he can't even begin to contemplate the idea of saying it back. 

Right now, Noct's pretty sure he's the fucking worst. 

"Ignis," he says, remorse and shame clawing at him, ripping into his heart and tearing it to pieces. It _hurts_ , it hurts so damn bad, he needs to say something, to apologise, to tell Ignis he loves him too, _somehow_ , to tell Ignis that he's drowning and he doesn't know how to save himself, but none of it comes out. "Ignis—" 

"Shh. You don't have to say it right now." 

Another sob, and Noct realises he's trembling. His eyes sting. "I'm so tired." 

"I know," Ignis says, and he sounds so sad that it makes Noct feel somehow even more terrible. He takes a deep breath, his sobs at last beginning to lessen. He simply doesn't have the energy to keep crying. 

"I wanna sleep forever," he admits then, and he knows Ignis understands his meaning by the way his arm tenses around Noct, his other hand stilling against his head. 

"...I'd miss you terribly." 

"I know," he whispers, echoing Ignis' words. There's a painful lump in his throat, and it's hard to get the words out. "Iggy... I won't, I—" A yawn interrupts him, his eyes sliding shut as his weariness begins to take over him, his body growing lethargic and heavy. 

"Rest for now, love," Ignis says quietly, kissing his neck a second time. 

There's so much Noct should say still, but he's struggling to open his eyes again, and he can't seem to fight the exhaustion any longer. Tears are still slipping silently down his cheeks, trickling sluggishly down, but his sobs have stopped, and his breathing begins slowing as sleep steals over him. 

The last thing he hears is Ignis' whispered, "Don't ever leave me," as the world slips away—spoken so low, Noct's sure he's not meant to hear it. _I won't_ , he tries to say back, but he's out before the words ever come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this second scene was not meant to be this long. At all. Noct wasn't even supposed to cry once he was in bed, he was just supposed to lay there while Ignis comforted him and eventually drop off to sleep... instead he got super emotional.
> 
> And then _I_ got emotional writing it, which is not something that generally happens (because as my awesome reader friend Alyssa said, I eat angst for breakfast, which... accurate), and I had a capslocking, keyboard-smashing [feels crisis](http://fayth.altervista.org/noesis/feelscrisis.png) all over my best friend on facebook, and then this fanart on tumblr popped up on my dashboard in the middle of it and I became an emotional wreck, sobbing and blubbering to my best friend still in capslock about how much I loved Noct and Iggy and all my feels.
> 
> And then I kept writing and piling on the sadness and it wound up being half the chapter when I originally thought this chapter was going to wind up way too short. So that's my embarrassing story about this chapter BUT I'M NOT SORRY FOR THE ANGST.
> 
> Anyways, as always, your comments and kudos and bookmarks are appreciated, thank you guys <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a chapter. Because I feel like it.

When Noct wakes up, he's back in the throne room.

Immediately he feels his throat closing up in panic, sudden harsh terrified breaths echoing throughout the room. Why is he here? He was in his room, in his bed with Ignis curled up behind him and Effy in front of him. He shouldn't be _here_ , not in this room; he never wants to be here again. 

He looks around wildly, wondering if any of his friends are here, or Iris, or Cor, or _someone_ who can tell him how he got here, but he's completely alone, the room empty. "Ignis?" he says anyway, his voice coming out small and scared. He gets no answer. 

He can feel his eyes start to water, and there's a sick lump of leaden anxiety in his stomach. Noct slams his eyes shut and tries not to throw up and hopes desperately that when he opens his eyes, he'll be elsewhere. 

"Now Noct, there's no need for that," Ardyn's voice drawls, and Noct's eyes fly open in shock to see the man smirking at him from the throne. How did he not notice Ardyn before? Was he hiding behind the throne? 

"What—" he chokes out, but the rest of his words are stuck in his throat. 

Ardyn raises a hand, lazily twitching one finger, and in a flash of purple the bodies of Luna and his father are hanging in front of him, suspended on chains, twisting in slow circles. Noct swallows, turning away from the sight. He's so confused, he has no idea what's going on, how Ardyn is alive again—or maybe Noct hadn't ever killed him at all. 

Well, Noct can fix that. He turns back towards Ardyn, forcing down the panic long enough to call forth his father's sword from his armiger. A flash of blue, and something materialises in his hand, but the shape, the weight, it's all wrong. He looks down to see his phone in his hand and frowns, shoving it absently into his pocket. 

"Your friends can't save you, Noct," Ardyn says, and in another flash of purple three more bodies join the two already up there. Noct goes rigid as he catches sight of them—it's Prompto, and Gladio, and _Ignis_. All of his friends, dead and bloated and rotting, their faces forever frozen in screams of horror. 

He blinks against the tears. His friends are _dead_ —Ardyn's killed them somehow—they'll never talk to him again, he'll never hear their laughter, never hear another teasing remark from Gladio, or a ridiculous joke from Prompto... He'll never again feel the warmth of Ignis' body pressed up against his, never get to hear Ignis say 'I love you' or be able to say it back to him... 

A harsh cry tears itself out of Noct's throat as he rips a sword from the armiger, warping himself hastily at the throne, tears streaming down his face, more than ready to take Ardyn down once and for all this time. Only when he lands, Ardyn's not there. Noct looks around wildly. Ardyn's nowhere in sight, but his crazed laughter echoes around the room, swirling around Noct, taunting him. "Show yourself, you coward!" he screams, and Ardyn laughs harder. 

Noct's phone buzzes. 

Blinking, he pulls it from his pocket, looking at the message on the display. _Long time no see!_

"Carbuncle?" He looks around for the little blue creature, confused. He hasn't heard from his guardian messenger in months—years—not since the aftermath of Altissia, when everything had gone so wrong. He'd been grieving Luna's death and Ignis' loss of sight, refusing to leave his bed and sleeping most of the time. Most of his dreams had been nightmares, but one... He'd been at a carnival in Altissia, having a great time, and Carbuncle had accompanied him the entire time. When he'd woken up, he'd still been grieving, but he'd at least been able to get himself out of bed and through the days, his sorrow not quite as all-consuming. 

If Carbuncle is talking to him now, then this must be a dream... but he doesn't see the little fox anywhere. Is this real after all? Did he imagine the text just now? It was there... wasn't it? Noct looks back at his phone, but the screen's dark, no trace of a message ever having been there. 

"Noct... Oh Noct. It's just you and me now. No more pesky little friends to save you. Let us settle this like true kings," Ardyn says, stepping out from behind the throne. There's a smile on his face, oozing false charm and benevolence, and it makes Noct sick. His friends are dead, and Ardyn's _smiling_ at him like he hasn't got a care in the world. 

"Shut up!" Noct lunges for him, intending to run Ardyn through, but his sword meets only empty air. He whirls around, eyes darting to every corner and shadow in the room. "Stop hiding from me!" Noct's phone buzzes again, and he pulls it out once more. _This isn't real._

"Carbuncle?" Noct repeats, desperation dripping from his tone as he looks around for his small friend. He needs Carbuncle to be here, needs this to not be real. 

_Behind you!_

Noct turns, relief washing over him when he sees Carbuncle sitting up in the middle of the throne room, his tail curled loosely around his body, languidly watching him. If Carbuncle's there, and so relaxed, then this is a dream, and Noct's not in danger... Ardyn's not really here, and his friends aren't dead... 

He wipes at the tears on his face, dismissing his sword as he makes his way down the steps to the fox. "Why are you here?" 

_To help you!_

"Help me? How?" 

_Like I did before. With the carnival!_

"This isn't a carnival..." Noct says as he glances up from his phone, half-expecting to suddenly find himself in Altissia, surrounded by celebrating people. 

_Come!_ Carbuncle gets up, heading towards the exit quickly, and after a startled moment, Noct follows after him. "Where are we going?" 

_You'll see!_ Carbuncle begins to run, and Noct jogs through the halls after him, the two of them making their way through the Citadel and back down to the lobby. When they get out of the palace and into the surrounding neighbourhood, Noct halts in surprise as he sees what's around him. 

The streets are busy with cars and people alike, everyone going about their daily business. The sidewalks are lined with storefronts and apartments, all of the buildings whole and towering up to the sky. There's life everywhere—not just the people, but in nature, green leaves and blooming flowers and birds and squirrels and all other manner of the wildlife that once filled Insomnia. There's no rubble left anywhere, no shells of abandoned cars littering the roads, no dead and dying trees filling the medians. No sign the city was ever attacked and torn apart at all. 

For a moment, Noct wonders if Carbuncle's taken him to Insomnia as it was before the fall, but when he looks closer, he doesn't recognise half the stores, and the buildings aren't as he remembers them. "What is this?" 

_Insomnia!_ Carbuncle jumps up in the air, doing an excited little flip as he squeaks, and Noct's phone vibrates a second time—a happy chocobo emoji surrounded by hearts, when he looks. It makes him smile. _As it could be._

"It's going to look like this eventually?" 

_If you wish it. It's your city to shape._

Noct feels his chest tighten as he reads those words. "I'm not—I can't—I don't deserve it. I'm all screwed up." 

_You're lost. But you can find your way._

Fingers tightening around his phone, Noct swallows, looking down at the little creature. "How?" 

Another chocobo emoji, followed by a message. _Trust your friends._

Tears brim once more at that, and Noct takes a deep breath, willing himself not to cry. He's done too much of that already. "I don't want to worry them. They've done so much for me already... they shouldn't have to deal with this too." 

_They want to. But only if you let them. They care for you. You're not alone!_

Noct loses the battle, a few tears slipping out. It's the first time since coming back to Insomnia that anyone has bothered to tell him he's not alone, and he's surprised at how much lighter it makes him feel. Even if it's only Carbuncle, he really does feel less alone for having been told that. 

_It's time to wake up now!_

* * *

When Noct wakes up for real, he's relieved to find that he's _not_ in the throne room, but in his bedroom. He's curled up on his bed and on Ignis, their legs tangled together comfortably, and Noct wonders with some amazement at not seeing the truth in their changed relationship before Ignis kissed him. 

"Noct?" Ignis murmurs uncertainly. 

Noct mumbles something wordless into Ignis' chest, blinking a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes, and pulls away reluctantly to sit up. His hand is clenched into a tight fist, aching slightly, and when he unfurls it, he sees his Carbuncle totem pressed into his palm. "Carbuncle?" he says, hazy flashes of his dream coming back to him then. 

"You were having a nightmare, and would not wake. I thought it might help," Ignis says quietly. 

Noct looks at the totem for a moment, and then sets it down on his nightstand, next to the chocobo figurine that Ignis had bought him. "Thanks." He means it for more than just Carbuncle, and he knows Ignis will understand that, even if he doesn't explicitly say it. 

"Are you... feeling better?" Ignis asks. His words are hesitant, as if he's not sure he wants the answer, or should even be asking the question. 

Noct shrugs, and then sighs, knowing he'll have to be verbal. "I guess. Sorry for... you know, worrying you," he mutters. 

"There is no need to apologise," Ignis says. "Most of my initial worry stemmed from not being certain what _did_ happen. Iris wasn't able to say on the phone, and you were in no condition to tell me yourself." 

Remembering how distraught he'd been when he'd come back to awareness, Noct feels his face heat up. He knows Ignis is probing for information, trying to figure out what had made him panic and lose himself so badly, but he doesn't think he can talk about it. He's never told anyone about what exactly happened in that room after Ardyn's defeat. He doesn't even really allow himself to think about it. It's too much pain and fear, and he can't handle it. 

But he also knows Ignis is going to continue to worry if Noct doesn't give him _something_. "Being in there... was too much." 

"In what way?" 

Ignis' voice is soft, his tone concerned and non-judgemental, but Noct thinks about trying to explain even a small portion of it and feels panic emerging. "It—Ignis, I can't, I—" He stops. Shudders. Takes a deep breath. Tries to calm down. "I don't want to talk about it." 

"That's fine, Noct. You're not obligated to," Ignis says, and he sounds so understanding that it makes Noct feel inexplicably guilty. "Perhaps you should reassure Iris that you are fine, however. She was rather scared for you, I believe." 

Noct sighs at that, entirely unenthused by the prospect. He loves Iris, he really does—she's like a younger sister to him. But she hasn't been here over the past months to see him gradually fall apart, and he wants even less to explain _anything_ to her than he does to explain his reaction in the throne room to Ignis. 

Still, he knows that Ignis is right. She deserves to know that he's okay after what she'd seen yesterday, and he might as well do it sooner rather than later. It's not as if he has to tell everything to her. "Yeah," he finally says. "I will." 

* * *

Noct finds Iris later with Gladio and Prompto in the training hall, trading stories of their time spent daemon hunting during the darkness as they spar. He watches the three of them for several minutes, quietly impressed by Iris' moves. As a fifteen year old in training, she'd been great. As a twenty-five year old, she's phenomenal. Cor apparently trained her well. She definitely would be an asset to the Crownsguard, and regardless of his own misgivings, Noct finds himself hoping she decides to stay and join them. 

Eventually someone notices him, and very shortly after Noct has an armful of Iris, awkwardly holding her as she flings her arms tightly around him, squeezing him half to death. He can feel his face turning red, both from embarrassment and the effort to draw in a full breath, and turns pleading eyes to his friends 

"Iris, let the poor man breathe," Gladio says in amusement, and Iris lets out a squeak as she releases him, stepping back. 

"Sorry, Noct," she says. Noct waves her off, gasping air in gratefully. 

"Wanted to borrow you," he tells her once he's recovered, and tries not to look bothered by the idea of spending time alone with her. He's absolutely not going to get into the whole stuck in the past thing with her. She'd understand, and have nothing but sympathy, but Noct's tired of explaining, and doesn't want to deal with another person knowing right now. 

They end up wandering around outside the Citadel, making their way through the streets of Insomnia. Noct leads them to one of the lesser-populated areas, one that's still patrolled by the Crownsguard but hasn't really had people moving into yet. Too many people will stop him to talk or thank him if they stick to the areas immediately surrounding the Citadel, and not only does Noct not have the patience for that right now, the thought of Iris seeing it is embarrassing. 

He's quiet as they walk, trying to figure out in his head exactly what he should say to her. "Sorry... for worrying you," he eventually says. "I'm fine now." It's inadequate and he knows it, but anything else he can come up with will lead to long-winded discussions he's not willing to have. 

"What happened?" she asks quietly, kicking aside some loose chunks of small stone that had undoubtedly once been part of a building. "You looked like you were in pain, I didn't know what to do... I tried to call Gladdy, but he just gave me Ignis' number, and no one would tell me what was going on." 

Noct sighs, gnawing briefly at his lower lip. "They didn't fully know either." He hesitates, his stomach twisting in knots. "The throne room holds bad memories. From my battle with Ardyn," he finally settles on, and hopes she'll accept it as enough. 

"Oh..." Sympathy's in her tone, and that makes his stomach clench even more. "Sorry, you don't have to tell me any more. I guess it was pretty traumatic, huh?" 

"Yeah," he says inanely, because what kind of question is that? 

Iris gives an embarrassed little laugh, and Noct realises she's probably struggling with what to say now just as much as he's been. "We've all had our share of that over the years. I'm just glad you're okay, Noct. I've missed you these past ten years." 

Noct goes to respond—a lie, a simple _me too_ , whatever sounds good—but before he can, a low growl comes from the shadows of some nearby rubble, and then he's being pinned to the ground by a heavy weight, a sudden pain radiating from his lower right arm as something sharp tears into it. Wetness floods out, bathing his wrist and the ground in bright red blood, and Noct yells out, bringing up his free arm to hit at the sabertusk on top of him, punching it hard in the side of the head. It snarls and digs its teeth in deeper. Noct screams. 

Iris' boot comes flying, slamming into the sabertusk's head from the other side, knocking it off of Noct. It's just enough time for him to scramble to his feet and yank a pair of daggers out of his armiger to toss to Iris before materialising a sword for himself. Several other sabertusks emerge from the ruins of an old bank, surrounding them, and they press in close to each other, back to back and weapons at the ready, continuously circling as they're circled in return. Noct's never fought alongside her before, but having seen her in the training hall just before, he's not worried. 

A sabertusk leaps at him, and Noct's waiting for it, bringing his sword up to slash across its underbelly, blood and guts spilling out as it gives a dying yelp. Some of them splatter across his arm, and it's warm and wet and gross, but there's no time to think about it as another one rushes him. He swings at it, making it turn away at the last second, and then stabs his sword into its flank, driving it in deep. It's a little awkward, having to use his left hand given that his right is throbbing in too much pain to cooperate, but he manages to pierce through its thick hide, the sabertusk snarling and snapping at him all the while. 

A second one jumps him, latching onto his injured arm, sinking its teeth into the wound. Noct shakes his arm, trying to get it free, more annoyed than anything. Adrenaline keeps him from feeling the brunt of the pain, but blood's still pouring from the ripped open skin, slicking his arm and making it harder for the sabertusk to keep its grip. 

Behind him, pained yelps let him know that Iris is holding her own just fine, and between the two of them they soon make short work of the beasts. Noct slumps down to the ground once the last one's dead, his sword disappearing back into the armiger as he dismisses it. The pain in his arm begins making itself known again, and he looks wearily at it, assessing the damage. 

It's deep. Nearly to the bone, a huge chunk of his arm missing, layers of fat and muscle visible, making him feel a little sick at the sight. There's blood, a lot of it. Too much maybe. 

"Here, let me see," Iris says, dropping to her knees beside him, reaching for his arm. Noct's starting to have trouble focusing, so he sits there and lets her do as she pleases. He feels cold. Iris sheds her jacket, and begins to wrap it tightly around his wound. It hurts, and Noct jerks away, hissing out in pain. 

"Your Majesty!" Two of the Crownsguard run up to them, looking in dismay at the slaughtered beasts scattered around them. "Are you alright?" 

Noct winces, both at the title and at Iris' not so gentle ministrations. "I'm fine," he says. It's not entirely truthful, but it's not really a lie either. He'll be fine once he's fixed up. 

"Let us escort you back to the Citadel," one of them says. 

Noct shakes his head at him, regretting the movement when it makes everything spin sickeningly. It's not an unfamiliar feeling, there's been plenty of battles where he's felt similar after, but it's been awhile since he's last had to deal with it. "Stay. Clear the corpses. Look for any other nearby packs. I want the citizens to be safe." 

"Yes, Your Majesty," the other one says, though she doesn't sound happy with the orders. 

Noct looks at her. Blinks. Tips his head. "I know you," he says. Memories swim through his mind, blurring and confusing him. "You drive me home from school sometimes." 

She smiles at that, at him, and he can't remember her name, or if he's ever known it. "Yes, Your Majesty, I did, a few times when your advisor could not." 

He gives up on her name. "Not majesty," he mumbles, frowning. The title's wrong, but he can't think why. His head feels foggy, too dizzy and muddled to make sense of things. 

"I'll get him to the Citadel," he hears someone say—and it takes him longer than he'd like to recognise that it's Iris, and to remember what she's doing here—and then she's saying his name repeatedly, her tone forceful. 

Getting to his feet, he's surprised to find how weak and wobbly his legs feel. "What?" he asks irritably. His arm hurts. 

Iris says nothing, merely putting a supporting arm around him, and Noct wants to push her away, but he's not sure he'll make it on his own. They make their way to the Citadel slowly, Noct having to stop a few times to rest so that he doesn't pass out—or throw up, perhaps—and when they reach the lobby all three of his friends are there and waiting for him, Iris having texted them when they'd stopped the first time. 

By now Noct's arm is throbbing and burning with pain so intense it's all he can focus on. The jacket around it is soaked through with blood, and he feels faint, swaying a little on his feet. He's nauseated too, stomach churning uncomfortably, and he hopes he doesn't get sick in front of everyone. Sweat trickles down his face and neck, soaking uncomfortably into the collar of his shirt. His arm feels so hot, like it's on fire, but the rest of him is ice cold, leaving him shivering uncontrollably. 

He follows them blindly, not really paying attention to what they're doing or where they're going, or even where they're at. He's been through this a million times, a million battles, a million injuries that have left him feeling just like this. He's not worried. As soon as they get to the hotel and clean the wound, he'll pull out a potion and then everything will be fine. 

Someone directs him to sit on a bed, and Noct does, extending his arm out automatically. There's a hiss and a low whistle when the jacket is removed. "That looks pretty bad, buddy," Prompto says. Noct tries to look at him and grin, maybe make a joking remark about seeing the other guy, but his head lolls limply to one side instead, fatigue overwhelming him. 

He grits his teeth as the wound is cleaned, the pain making his vision white out a few times, everything in the room going overly bright as he struggles not to lose consciousness. While they're working, he reaches into his armiger, mentally feeling around for a potion, frowning when he can't find one. Apparently they're out. Ignis is usually more on top of such things. "Gotta replenish our stock at the next stop," he says. "Gonna be a late night making potions." 

Somewhere behind him, he hears Iris talking lowly, her tone worried. "Gladdy? Is Noct okay?" It confuses him, because he's not sure why she's here. She should be in Lestallum still, with Jared and Talcott. 

"Noct." Ignis' voice sounds near his ear. Somehow, Noct manages to look at him, making a curious, encouraging noise. "Ten years have passed since we travelled around Eos," Ignis says. "You haven't made any potions in a long time." 

Noct stares at him, remembering after a long, fuzzy moment that Ignis is right. He's not twenty anymore, and he'd used the last of their potions during the fight to reclaim Insomnia. He _could_ make new potions, if he really wanted, but it hasn't occurred to him to do so until now. "Yeah," he agrees. 

"He gets confused about time sometimes," Gladio says quietly behind him, presumably explaining to Iris. "He wasn't aware of the ten years passing in the Crystal." Really, they ought to just make cards with that info on it, and hand them out to people who need to be in the know about him—it's been explained so many times, and Noct's tired of hearing it. 

There's a sharp pain in his shoulder, and Noct jerks in surprise, focusing to see one of the doctors drawing back with a needle that he quickly disposes of. "What was that?" 

"For tetanus, Your Majesty. This next one is a local anaesthetic to numb the area, so we can stitch the wound." 

Upon hearing that, Noct reaches out for Ignis' hand with his good arm, squeezing it tightly in nervous anticipation once he's found it. He suffers through the stitching silently, watching with morbid fascination as the thread pulls through his skin, each loop accompanied by a slightly uncomfortable tugging sensation, though there's thankfully no pain. 

Once that's done and he's been given another shot, this time for the pain, Noct finds he's too drowsy and weak to leave. Gladio helps him lay back on the bed, pulling his shoes off, and everyone other than Ignis takes their leave, wishing him well. "Lay with me?" Noct mumbles hopefully, and Ignis chuckles, feeling his way into the bed carefully, settling himself on Noct's left side. It's small, and a little cramped, but Noct presses up close against him, not minding in the least. 

"I must say, I thought the days of you giving me a heart attack with some new physical injury were long over," Ignis eventually says into the silence. 

Noct snorts. "Gotta keep you on your toes. Can't let you get complacent in your old age." The words are slurred with exhaustion, but he knows Ignis will understand them well enough. 

"Indeed," Ignis says, and there's a hint of amusement colouring his tone, but a bit of surprise too, as if he hadn't expected Noct to make a joke about age, given how touchy a subject it's been for him. "Did you at least manage to talk to Iris before your arm became sabertusk chow?" 

"Mm-hmm." 

"Do you still know when you are?" Ignis asks quietly, more serious now. 

"Yeah. 'M thirty-one," Noct says around a yawn. "Crystal stole me from you." 

Ignis makes an odd noise at that, but Noct's too sleepy to decipher the meaning of it. He shifts closer to Ignis, trying to get as much contact with him as possible. Whatever painkiller he was given is making him feel a bit loopy, floating in a haze that's too much like his dissociation, and he doesn't like it. At least his arm's no longer hurting. "Too many sabertusks still," he says, his eyes fluttering closed as the events of the afternoon start catching up with him. "Need to deal with them." 

"We will," Ignis promises softly. He moves, putting his right arm around Noct, taking care not to jostle Noct's injured arm. Noct makes a contented noise, curling up against him, and lets himself drift for awhile. 

* * *

Noct's arm is screaming in agony the next morning, and he grits his teeth against the pain as he pulls himself to a sitting position. Ignis is no longer in the bed with him, but Gladio is sitting beside it, glancing up from his book as Noct wakes. "How's the arm?" he asks. 

Noct grunts. "Hurts like hell." 

"Ignis left some painkillers if you want 'em." 

In response, Noct holds out his good arm, and two pills are pressed into his hand, along with a glass of water. Noct swallows them down, missing the days when he could have potions readily available. He should really see about getting a supply going again. "Where's Ignis?" 

"He had to go take an important phone call." 

Noct nods, wishing he could get his phone to check the time. It's in his right pocket, though, and he's not about to stretch his left arm across and look helpless in front of Gladio. He sits there for a few minutes, arm throbbing, exhaling out slowly against the pain. "You need something?" he eventually asks, wondering what Gladio's waiting on him for. This isn't like before, when he'd tried to kill himself. He doesn't need to be watched every second. 

Gladio sighs, finally closing his book and setting it aside. "I owe you an apology." 

Noct simply blinks, not having expected that in the least. He can't think of anything Gladio's done—or not done—to warrant giving him an apology. "Huh?" 

"I'm your Shield. I'm supposed to be protecting you. I should have been out there yesterday with you and Iris, but I wasn't." 

"Gladio..." Noct can't understand Gladio's belief these past few months that he needs to be right there next to Noct _always_. He's fine until something happens to Noct, and then it's all apologies and _I should have been there_ s, whether it's logical or not. It confuses Noct, because he certainly hadn't been this way when they were growing up, or even when they were traipsing around Lucis after the fall of Insomnia. It's really only been since Noct's return from the Crystal... Gods, does Gladio blame himself for that? 

"You know," Noct says, "even your dad wasn't by my dad's side twenty-four seven, and I don't think either of them expected him to be. And even if they _had_ , I don't want that kind of thing, Gladio. I'd feel smothered." 

"I'm supposed to keep you safe," Gladio argues. "How can I do that when I'm not with you in potentially dangerous situations?" 

Noct really hopes the pills kick in soon. His arm's on fire, making it difficult to think, and this conversation seems so much harder than it should be. "It was a walk around the city, not a trip into a daemon-infested cave. And Iris was with me. Maybe she's not officially a Shield, but she's still an Amicitia." 

Gladio folds his arms across his chest, looking unhappy as he stares down at Noct. "She's not trained to protect you the way I am." 

"Astrals." Noct groans, already tired of this conversation. "I _am_ capable of fending a few sabertusks off myself." 

"Yeah? That why you got all those stitches in your arm?" 

Noct rolls his eyes. "They jumped us out of nowhere. I'd have them even if you had been there. Iris got the stupid beast _off_ me. It's not your fault I got hurt, Gladio. Quit blaming yourself. And while you're at it, quit blaming yourself for my disappearance into the Crystal," he adds, wanting to see if he's right. 

At that, Gladio jerks, guilt creeping across his face before he looks away, and Noct knows he was right. There's silence in the room for a long moment, and then Gladio clears his throat before speaking gruffly, changing the subject. "Iris has decided to stay in Insomnia." 

Noct tries not to grimace. It's a _good_ thing—she and Gladio will be able to spend time together, and after what he saw yesterday, the Crownsguard can definitely use her. He'll get used to her new appearance eventually, it's not any worse than anybody else. "She going to join the Crownsguard?" 

"Yep. She's filling the paperwork out for Cor as we speak. She wants to help out with the wild beast problem." 

Noct gives an absent nod to that, relieved by the news. She'll certainly be an instrumental force in the decimation of their population. "Sounds good." 

Gladio nods back, picking up his book. "You ready to get out of here?" 

Careful not to use his right arm, Noct slides out of the bed, looking for his shoes. "More than ready," he says. Gladio helps him get his shoes on, and then accompanies him back to his own room. Noct puts up with it without a fuss, though he doesn't really need the escort. If it makes Gladio feel better though... 

Effy's curled up in his usual side of the bed when he gets there, sleeping soundly on his pillow. It's awkward using his left hand to firmly tap the headboard—it just feels _off_ when he's so used to using his right hand—but he manages to wake her without scaring her, and she rubs against his side as he sits down, more than happy to see him. "Hey Effy," he says with a smile, petting her gently. 

Gladio snorts, amused. "Isn't she deaf?" 

Noct shrugs. "I still talk to her." He goes to pull himself completely up on the bed, wanting to stretch out, using his right arm out of habit to support himself. Pain flares, racing up his arm, and he can't hold back the small cry as he jerks his arm away, making him lose his balance. 

Gladio's there immediately, grabbing him before he can fall. "Hey dumbass, you're injured, remember?" The words are snarky, but Noct picks up on the undercurrent of worry in them. 

"Yeah, I got that," he says, breathing out slowly as the pain settles and fades into a dull ache. He lets Gladio help him on the bed, kicking his shoes back off. Effy hops up on his chest once he's horizontal, kneading his shirt and purring loudly before curling up and going back to sleep. Noct brings his left arm up to wrap around her, running his fingers through her fur, the feel of it comforting. 

Gladio shakes his head at the sight, a small grin on his face. "Text me or Iggy if you need anything," he says. Noct lifts his hand in acknowledgement, and Gladio takes his leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few years ago I kicked in a cabinet door that was glass, and the glass shattered and cut my foot and I had to get stitches. I lied about how it happened at the ER and said I'd just stepped on some glass so they gave me a tetanus shot and my shoulder hurt from it for _days_. I just felt like sharing that.
> 
> Thanks for all your love for this fic, guys.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, so... this chapter is pretty much all porn. I swear there was supposed to be more to this chapter. Like, five scenes more worth. I just... got carried away with the smut? And as per my usual, it's smut that spends just as much time in Noct's head as it does being smut, because that's how I roll. Feel free to skip this chapter if it's not your thing.

A small cry bursts from Noct's lips as he jolts upright in bed, his heart pounding rapidly in fear. Harsh breathing is the only sound to be heard in the room as he looks wildly around him, every shadow in the dark a potential threat. He wraps his arms around his middle, hugging himself tightly, desperately trying to calm down. It's just another nightmare, Ardyn's still very much dead and gone, but every time they feel so damn real that it's hard to convince himself they're not when he first wakes.

Gradually his breathing slows as the images fade from his mind, and he sags back into his pillows, wishing he could go back to sleep, but knowing he'll be unable to any time soon. He never can after these dreams. 

It's been two weeks since his blackout panic in the throne room, and nearly every night has been filled with a nightmare, sometimes based on the actual events that took place in there, and sometimes his brain simply taking his worst fears and torturing him with them. A few times he's woken up crying from them, and once he even threw up. 

The memories from that time, once locked tightly away in the recesses of his mind, now plague him constantly, as if going in that room had been the key to unlocking them. His days have been terrible again, worse than before, exhaustion and depression constantly dragging him down, and he's spent more of his time awake in a state of dissociation than not. 

He's been seeking Ignis for sex frequently, never letting on that anything's wrong. He doesn't really see the need to—whatever the exact cause, something about sex seems to stop the feelings, and it just seems pointless to worry Ignis when he can deal with it himself. He doesn't want Ignis to worry, doesn't want Ignis to know how pathetic and weak he really is still. Ignis doesn't deserve to keep dealing with all Noct's shit, and it's not as if the sex is hurting either of them, so if it helps, then Noct might as well. 

Unfortunately however, it only helps so much, a temporary fix rather than a permanent solution, one that does nothing for all of the emotions that cause his disconnect from the world in the first place. They weigh on him, making it hard to get through each day, and he's back to wanting to hide away in his room and avoid everyone and everything, only he can't because then it'll be obvious he's not okay. The effort of pretending he's fine has been tearing at him, leaving him frayed and closer to coming undone every day. 

The bed dips as Effy jumps up on it, and Noct reaches out to pet her, hoping it'll comfort him some. The images from his dream have mostly faded, but the emotions are still there, leaving him distressed and upset. He's already starting to dissociate, the room distorting oddly around him, the dark making him feel that he exists in a terrifying sort of nothingness. 

Effy's soft and soothing beneath his hand, but it does nothing to ground him back to reality. Noct swallows, feeling frustration and despair rise. He's really so tired of this happening. No matter how many times, he can't ever get used to it. He hates it. Checking his phone, he finds that it's only approaching eleven—a little late, but not completely so. Ignis is probably still up. 

_You awake Specs?_

_Yes. Is everything alright?_

_You up for some company?_

_From you? Always._

Noct ignores the warm flutter his heart gives at reading that, gathering up Effy and heading to Ignis' room. "I brought Effy," he warns as he lets himself in. 

"That's fine." She's been to Ignis' room enough that he'd bought duplicates of many of her things, so that Noct didn't have to carry them back and forth between rooms. Noct watches as she jumps up on the series of shelves along the wall built just for her, the bell on her collar jingling all the while, finally settling in a perch on the top shelf. 

Satisfied that she's satisfied, he climbs into the bed with Ignis, getting under the blankets and pressing as close to him as humanly possible. He tangles their legs together, throwing an arm over his stomach, curling his left hand up under Ignis' back before tucking his head against Ignis' shoulder. 

He knows he won't be able to keep the position for long—his right arm's pressing hard into the mattress, and though the stitches have been removed and the worst of the wound healed, it's still tender enough that anything more than a gentle touch hurts. Still, he can tolerate it for several minutes, and he wants the closeness with Ignis. 

"Are you certain you're alright?" Ignis asks, though he wraps his left arm around Noct's shoulders, tugging him even closer. "Are you... dissociating?" he adds, clearly hesitant to bring up the question. 

"Got lonely," Noct says, not willing to lie to him but not wanting to admit the truth either. "Missed you." 

"You say that as if it's been much longer than the few hours ago you last saw me." 

As much contact as they're currently having, it's not enough. Everything still has that distant, unreal quality to it, including Ignis. Noct mumbles something incomprehensible, letting his hand slide down until he finds the hem of Ignis' t-shirt, and then slips it under, resting his palm on Ignis' bare skin. It's warm, and Noct feels the muscles tightening briefly under his touch. It's a nice feeling. "I like the way you feel," he tells Ignis, and gets an amused chuckle in return. 

They stay that way for a time, Noct keeping his breathing deliberately even and steady as he tries to hold his upset emotions at bay, Ignis' presence at least a comfort if not a cure, until eventually the ache in his injured arm gets to be too much, and he reluctantly sits up, hating how much worse he feels without that contact. "Switch places with me," he says, poking at Ignis, and after some awkward manoeuvring, Noct's once more draped halfway over him, this time from the opposite side. 

He slips his hand back under Ignis' shirt, enjoying the way his muscles flex in response, and allows his hand to creep higher, fingers tracing lightly up the toned chest until they near a nipple. Noct doesn't touch it, just trails his fingers in teasing circles around it, enjoying the hitch he hears in Ignis' breathing. 

"You're rather insatiable today, Noct." 

Ignis' tone is light, a playful smile on his face, but Noct still pauses, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Is he wanting it too much? He doesn't know what's normal in a relationship, has nothing to compare it to. It's not even that he's really in the mood half the time, he just needs to stop feeling bad. And Ignis seems to enjoy it, and he wants Ignis to be happy... "Sorry. I can stop," he mutters, beginning to withdraw his hand. 

"I didn't say that I was opposed to it," Ignis says, pressing a kiss to the top of Noct's head. 

Still uncertain, Noct lets his hand hover in indecision, until he realises that the disconnected feelings aren't going to stop so easily if he merely cuddles with Ignis. Not when they're this intense. And the whole point of coming here was because he wants them to stop. If Ignis is saying he's okay with it, then it's okay. 

Making up his mind, Noct resumes his earlier teasing, trailing his hand around both nipples, edging close but still never actually touching either of them, liking the way Ignis' breathing gets faster as his arousal slowly builds. 

"Noct," Ignis gasps, _almost_ a plea, and Noct takes mercy on him, brushing his fingers over a hardened nub, his cock twitching in response when Ignis shudders. 

He takes his time, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the stiff nubs, rolling them between his fingers occasionally, and then he sits up, straddling Ignis as he starts tugging at his shirt. Ignis obliges, leaning up so Noct can pull it all the way off, and when Noct bends down and takes a nipple into his mouth, a quiet moan escapes Ignis, his hands clenching into the bedsheets beneath him. 

Noct pulls back long enough to murmur, "You can scratch me," because he's learned over the past couple of weeks that he likes it a little rough, but also that Ignis is reluctant to really do so unless Noct gives his permission beforehand. 

Still, even with consent, it's not until Noct nips at a nipple that Ignis brings his arms up, sliding under Noct's shirt and raking his fingernails down the outer edges of Noct's back. The resulting stinging sensation feels good, and Noct lets out a small moan, wriggling a little to encourage more. It should be weird that he likes the pain, maybe, given how much other pain there's been in his life that he hasn't wanted, but unlike the rest of it this is pain that he has control over, and somehow that makes a world of difference. 

Ignis grazes him again, harder this time, and it makes arousal flare, Noct's dick hard in his pants, desperate to be touched. He pulls away and scoots up a little, moaning again when his erection rubs against Ignis' through their clothes, and tips his head down, bringing his lips to meet Ignis'. 

They trade lazy, unhurried kisses, Ignis' lips soft and warm against Noct's, the taste of him pleasant, and Noct closes his eyes as he lets the rest of the room fade, content to just enjoy himself. Ignis begins thrusting gently against him, and Noct rolls his hips in return, grinding their dicks together. It's both wonderful and maddening. 

At some point Ignis pauses to get Noct's shirt off, and then rolls him over, pressing his back into the mattress as he deepens their kisses. When Ignis leaves his lips and makes his way down to his chest, sucking a nipple roughly into his mouth, Noct gasps, arching his hips up, the sensation going straight to his cock and leaving him aching. He can feel precum dribbling out of the tip and smearing into his boxers, uncomfortably sticky. 

Like always, it's all too easy for Noct to lose himself in the moment, nightmares and dissociation sliding away as Ignis does his best to get Noct worked up, biting and scraping his teeth over Noct's nipples, sucking hard enough to bruise the skin, his fingers clawing down Noct's sides harshly, breaking open the top layer of skin. It feels too good, and Noct whines his pleasure loudly, his hips continuously rocking up against Ignis, desperately seeking more friction than he's finding. 

"Ignis," Noct whines, drawing his name out. 

Ignis laughs and moves off him, sliding his hands down until he finds Noct's sleep pants. Soon enough they're both naked, and Noct's dick is in Ignis' mouth, being swallowed down deep. It feels... really good, phenomenal, and it's enough to chase away the worst of his disconnect and distract him from the rest, and yet... he can't help but want more. 

It's not that he's tired of what they're currently doing. He likes what little they've done, but that's really the problem: they haven't done much. It's been mostly all blowjobs, with the occasional handjob here and there, and they _do_ feel great, but he still struggles with feeling so much younger and inexperienced than Ignis sometimes, especially when it's obvious that Ignis isn't new to anything they're doing. He's constantly feeling this pressing need to catch up, to prove that he's just as adult in this despite having lost ten years, to show that he's not going to hold their relationship back in any way. 

And he's curious too, he can't deny that. He knows how it all works, but not how it _feels_ , and if just getting sucked off feels this amazing... He tangles his hands in Ignis' hair, tugging gently. "Ignis," he says, a hint of urgency creeping into his voice, because he's already getting close, and he doesn't want to come. "Ignis, stop." 

Ignis does so instantly, pulling back and sitting up as he wipes at his mouth. "Something wrong?" 

"No, I just..." He stops, suddenly nervous. Is he really ready for this? Noct _thinks_ he is, but what if Ignis isn't willing to do it with him? Or what if he starts to but then Noct hates it? And how does he even ask? He's not going to ask Ignis to _make love_ to him—embarrassing romantic notions aside, neither of them has brought up the 'I love you' Ignis had said to him the night of the throne room incident, and Noct still isn't sure if his feelings of love for Ignis are—like _that_. 

But he also doesn't want to ask Ignis to just fuck him, because that sounds... impersonal, and off. Noct's not entirely sure why, or how to put it in words, but he knows it doesn't feel right. 

"Noct?" 

Ignis, right. Ignis is naked and between his spread thighs, head bowed and waiting for what to do next, not having any visual clues to go on and probably wondering if Noct's okay. "I want to go further," he finally settles on saying. "All the way," he adds, and then blushes immediately, because way to sound lame and very obviously _not_ like the thirty-one year old he's supposed to be. He should have just asked Ignis to fuck him. 

Ignis' head jerks up, looking in Noct's direction, his unscarred eye wide, and Noct imagines Ignis is probably wishing very hard that he could see right now. "As in—" 

Noct's still a bit red, but his voice is steady enough when he interrupts Ignis. "I want you inside me." 

"Are you certain you're ready?" 

"No," he says, knowing that for once he needs to be honest about his feelings. "But you'll stop if I don't want it, right?" 

"Of course," Ignis says. "You need only say the word." 

Noct had known that would be the answer, obviously, but it's still reassuring to hear it. "So... how do we do this?" he asks, even more nervous now that it's actually going to happen. "Do I need to move?" 

"No, I believe your current position will work well enough for now," Ignis says. Noct's startled when Ignis grabs his legs and spreads them even further apart, bending them at the knees and pressing them up towards his chest. It leaves his ass more visible, which he supposes is the point, but though Ignis has been down there plenty, he's always been focused on Noct's dick. This is new, and makes his heart beat faster in scared excitement. 

"When did you shower last?" Ignis murmurs to him, scooting back until he's on his stomach, his head positioned by Noct's ass. 

Noct furrows his brow, finding the question odd. "A few hours ago," he says, because he'd taken one just before he'd gone to sleep earlier. He's not sure how the question relates to anything, or why Ignis is in that position, because Noct has been assuming there'd be fingers going in him now. 

"Good," Ignis says, his voice husky, and then his hands are spreading Noct's cheeks wide, and before Noct can quite process it, there's a wet tongue licking over his hole. He jerks, because he's not expecting it, and it feels _weird_. "Alright?" Ignis asks, and he actually has to think about it before he answers. 

"Yeah," he says, swallowing down nerves. "Just... different." 

"Stop me if you need to," Ignis tells him, and swipes his tongue again. 

Noct squeezes his eyes shut, fists clenching into the sheets, his body going hot all over as Ignis begins licking at him in earnest. He's seen this in porn a few times, but had no idea it was a thing people actually _do_ in real life. 'Different' is an understatement; he feels vulnerable and exposed in a way he never has before, and despite showering earlier it's hard to let go of the worry that he might not be clean enough. 

Still, as Ignis' tongue traces lightly around the rim of his hole, he has to admit to himself that it feels good, too, and Ignis certainly doesn't seem to mind doing it. Gradually Noct manages to relax, his arousal slowly building again, and when Ignis manages to thrust his tongue _inside_ him, the moan he lets out is so filthy sounding that he embarrasses himself, his face burning hotly as he throws an arm over his eyes. 

Eventually Ignis pulls away, stretching forward and over Noct to grab something from the drawer in his nightstand. Noct has a pretty good idea what he's reaching for, and it makes him nervous again. "I'll use a finger now, shall I?" Ignis asks as he sits up, voice gone husky, and Noct's stomach tightens in anxious anticipation. 

"Okay," he says, trying to sound calmer than he feels, and hears the sound of a cap being flipped up in response. Seconds later a finger is resting gently against his hole, and Noct tenses. He'd thought earlier that he was ready enough for this, but now he's not so sure. Doubts are flaring, worry that he won't like it, or won't be good enough for Ignis. He's scared it's going to hurt, and he'll have to stop, and he'll look so pathetic. 

Ignis doesn't put his finger in, however. Instead he begins to massage against him, rubbing and teasing, occasionally applying pressure but never actually penetrating. It feels good, some of the tension and fear leaving him, and Noct knows that was Ignis' intention. 

"Relax, love," Ignis says softly, making Noct redden at the endearment, his stomach fluttering, and then Ignis gently pushes the tip of his finger in, letting it rest just inside him. 

It doesn't hurt. It's... weird, weirder than Ignis' tongue had been, a strange sort of fullness he's not used to, a little uncomfortable maybe, but there's no pain. Just that fact is reassuring enough that Noct's able to command his body to relax more after a moment, his muscles loosening. 

"Alright?" 

"Yeah," Noct says, a little hoarsely. "Keep going." 

Ignis does, beginning to thrust his finger in and out of Noct's hole, keeping the motion shallow. Noct lays there, tensing again, fingers scrabbling at the bed once more, his body trying to adjust to the new sensation and figure out how he feels about it. He wouldn't call it _good_ , exactly, but it's not bad either. 

"Jerk yourself," Ignis says, voice a bit breathless, and Noct blinks in surprise. "It will help you relax more," he adds, before Noct can question him. 

Noct feels himself flush, but obediently slides a hand down his belly, wrapping it around his dick. His strokes are tentative at first—he's only touched himself in front of Ignis once before, and he hadn't felt nearly so bared open then, and even though Ignis can't actually see, he _knows_ what Noct's doing, making him feel naughty and a little embarrassed—but soon enough he gets into it, panting harshly as he jerks himself roughly, unintentionally edging himself as he has to keep stopping so that he doesn't come before he's even been fucked. 

When Ignis pulls out to get more lube, Noct's surprised at the momentary emptiness he feels. It's soon forgotten as a slickened finger prods at him again, sliding fully in this time. Noct takes a breath, exhaling it slowly as Ignis starts moving his finger in and out. It's starting to feel less weird, not yet good, but like it _could_ with just a little more. "Still good?" Ignis asks softly. 

"Mm. Yeah," Noct mumbles, letting go of his cock before he comes all over himself. 

"Can you handle more?" 

"Yeah. You don't—you don't gotta ask, Specs." 

"I'm aware this is new to you," Ignis says. "I want to know that I'm not hurting you, or giving you a terrible experience." More lube drizzles against his hole, and then a second finger is pressing carefully in alongside the first. It's tight, and Noct hisses through his teeth, causing Ignis to still his motions until Noct's able to relax again, his muscles easing up their death grip on Ignis' fingers. 

"I trust you," Noct says as Ignis starts thrusting again, a belated response to his words, and then gasps as Ignis crooks his fingers inside him, eventually brushing up against a spot that sends the first sparks of pleasure jolting through him. "Fuck." 

Ignis grins smugly. "Prostate." 

Noct lets out a low moan as Ignis hits it again, his anxiety entirely forgotten for the moment. "Yeah," he pants as Ignis picks up the pace, thrusting his fingers more rapidly now. "Just didn't know it'd feel that good." 

Ignis keeps up the motion, and Noct soon realises that he's actually pushing himself down to meet Ignis, driving Ignis' fingers further into his body. It's feeling _really_ good now, each touch against that gland sending white hot fire through his body, his cock aching and dripping precum everywhere as he whines and writhes and fucks himself deeper on Ignis' fingers. 

Noct lets out a small mewl at the loss when Ignis pulls his fingers out, but it's only to add more lube, and then there's three pressing into him, and this time it actually burns a little, the stretch too much too fast, but Noct's beyond caring now, shoving himself frantically onto Ignis' fingers, his body sucking them in greedily. 

Warm, wet heat suddenly surrounds his dick as Ignis bends his head and takes him in almost completely to the base, hollowing his cheeks and curling his tongue around the tip, flicking over it, his free hand creeping up Noct's chest to toy with a nipple, and Noct's soon sobbing at all the stimulation, not used to so much at once and finding it too intense and overwhelming. "Ignis—please—gonna come—" 

Ignis lets Noct's dick slip from his mouth, pulling his fingers from his ass with a slick pop, making Noct nearly cry with frustration at how badly he wants to get off. "Not yet," Ignis murmurs. "Sit up and move over?" 

Noct does so with some confusion, understanding only alighting when Ignis takes his place, lying back and slicking his cock with copious amounts of lubrication. Noct straddles him without prompting, and it takes a few failed attempts, frustration and humiliation flaring while Ignis attempts to reassure him, but then the head's breaching the tight ring of muscle, and Noct sucks in a quick breath as he freezes, eyes going wide. 

Ignis reaches for him, running his hands soothingly along his thighs, up to his ass, kneading gently before trailing back down again, and Noct shudders. "Sorry," he says, and remembers to move, slowly working himself down onto Ignis' dick. It feels different than his fingers, longer and thicker and harder, _way_ more full, but it's good too, and Noct moans as he continues to lower himself, a rough groan spilling from his lips once he's fully seated. 

He has only a moment to wonder what he should do next before Ignis is thrusting up into him, slow and gentle, and Noct whimpers at the feel. A few more thrusts and suddenly it's not enough—not fast enough, not hard enough, not deep enough. He splays his hands against Ignis' chest, pressing down for leverage, and lifts himself up, most of the way off Ignis' cock, and then slams back down forcefully—and does it again, and again, and _that's_ enough, loud moans keening out of him, his dick hard against his belly, and Ignis is panting harshly beneath him, his fingers digging into Noct's hips as Noct rides him. 

Getting a proper rhythm going is nearly impossible—Noct's too new, and too impatient—but it doesn't seem to matter to either of them. Ignis has mostly stopped moving, content to roll his hips lazily every once in a while as Noct sets the pace, chasing after his own gratification. He looks down at Ignis, at Ignis' face and chest flushed with arousal, hair wet with sweat and sticking to his forehead, mouth gone slack in a wordless cry, his good eye fluttering as Noct's body continuously takes him in deep, and thinks that he's never seen a hotter sight. 

"Gods, Iggy, so good, don't stop, you feel so good, you're so hot," he gasps, babbling nonsense, his brain continuously short-circuiting as he's overwhelmed by how good everything feels. He leans down to kiss him, losing momentum, but Ignis easily makes up for it, shoving up hard into him, making Noct whine into his mouth as pleasure assaults him. 

"Touch yourself," Ignis commands, voice breathless and fogged with lust as he continues to stroke up into Noct. Noct can't even find a reply to that, simply makes a wordless noise in the back of his throat as he straightens up, curling his fingers around the base of his dick. He slides his hand up, thumbing over the head, smearing precum around before sliding back down, and he never thought touching himself could feel this incredible. 

He jerks himself hard and fast while Ignis fucks him, his breath getting more ragged as his orgasm approaches, stomach taut and body trembling with need and the effort of holding himself back, not wanting to come too soon, not wanting this to end, but he's so close and it feels _so good_ — 

"Ignis," he whimpers, fisting himself even faster, and his balls are drawing up tight now, he's right there on the edge— 

"Come for me, Noct," Ignis groans, giving a particularly hard thrust, fingers tightening on Noct's hips, boring into them, and Noct can't hold back any longer, vision whiting out as he lets himself go with a loud cry, coming hot over both of them. His body goes limp from the pleasure, thoroughly sated, but he holds himself up with arms that feel like jello, shaking through the aftershocks as Ignis still thrusts, hips stuttering erratically as his own orgasm nears. "Noct, you feel so good, I'm so close," Ignis says, each word a breathless gasp. 

"Fuck, Ignis, don't hold back—want you to come in me, _please_ —" Noct says, the last word nearly a sob, and Ignis does, rocking his hips up and holding himself deep, groaning harshly as he comes. Only then does Noct lets himself collapse on top of Ignis, burying his face in his chest, feeling Ignis wrap trembling arms around him and hold him tight, one hand running gently through his hair and stroking down his back. 

It takes awhile for Noct to come down from the endorphins rushing through him, but when he does he sighs against Ignis, awkwardness stealing over him as he runs through every inexperienced moment in his mind. "Was I okay?" he eventually mumbles, hating the insecurity but needing the reassurance. 

Ignis gives a rich, throaty laugh. "You were incredible," he says, still petting him. "I have no complaints." 

"Good," Noct says, relief flooding him, and lays there for several moments, feeling sticky and gross but unwilling to get up and do anything about it. 

Eventually Ignis sighs, not unpleasantly, moving his arms away from Noct. "We should shower." 

Noct whines, not wanting to move. "No." 

"You'll regret it sorely in the morning if you don't." 

Groaning, Noct rolls off of Ignis, somehow finding the energy to sit up, knowing he's right. "Ugh. Fine." 

They've never showered together before, and even with all they've just done, Noct feels a little self-conscious at first, standing naked in Ignis' large tub as Ignis carefully gets in behind him, sliding the glass door closed. That feeling quickly fades as Noct looks around him, pangs of sadness hitting him as reminders of Ignis' blindness stare back at him. 

Everything in the shower's very precisely organised by order of Ignis' probable routine, and there's a few thick hair ties wrapped around the bottle of conditioner—so that he can identify it easily, Noct knows. He also didn't miss the awkward way Ignis had to step over the edge of the tub, and how there's nothing for him to grab onto if he slips. He wonders if there's any kind of special showers or equipment that Ignis could have installed to make the process easier... 

Ignis grips onto his sides, gently shuffling him forward under the spray, and all thoughts fly out of Noct's head as the warm water hits him, easing aches he didn't know he had. His sides and hips sting, and he's expecting his sides, remembering the scratches Ignis had given him earlier, but when he looks down at his hips he's surprised to see little half-moons dug into them, some of the crescents bleeding sluggishly. 

Noct raises his eyebrows, feeling oddly pleased with the sight and not minding the bit of pain. He likes the thought of making Ignis feel so good that he unintentionally marked Noct. He won't _tell_ Ignis though—he'd fret over hurting Noct and then it'd be even harder to get him to do it next time. 

They don't spend too long in the shower, just enough to get the stink of sex off, but Ignis does take the time to soap up Noct, the cloth gliding gently over his body, and Noct sighs, relaxing into him as he resolves to shower more with Ignis in the future. "'S'nice," he mumbles, and Ignis laughs softly. 

"I'm pleased to have your approval," he says. 

Once they're more or less dry, they throw on underwear and then cuddle up in Ignis' bed, Noct once again seeking as much skin on skin contact as he can. He's not really dissociating anymore, the stress of his earlier nightmare completely gone for the moment, but he loves the feel of Ignis against him anyway. "Comfortable?" Ignis asks, and Noct nods briefly into his chest, knowing Ignis will feel it and decipher it. 

There's a jingling noise, and then a soft thump as Effy jumps up on the bed with them, curling into a ball behind Noct, pressing into his back. Her presence is nearly as comforting as Ignis' is, and Noct's content to close his eyes and finally drift off into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll be returning to our regularly scheduled angst next week, no worries.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies this chapter is late. It's also not edited, apologies for that as well. There's an explanation at the end if you wanna know why for these things. If you skip it, just know not to expect a new chapter for a bit.

The next evening finds Noct and Ignis lazing about Noct's rooms, curled up together on his couch, Effy settled happily onto Noct's lap. This morning when Noct had first woken in Ignis' bed, he'd felt a little awkward, thinking about the previous night—Ignis had been _inside_ him, and it was good, very good, but it was weird too, when he'd _really_ thought about it. He'd had Ignis' dick in him, and his fingers, and his _tongue_ , and people did this sort of thing regularly, and it was just—it was just weird, he could think of no better word for it.

And he's not sure _why_ he finds it so weird, since he hadn't before he'd done it. But then, he'd also never given much thought to it before. He'd watched porn more for curiosity than libido, and rarely jerked off. He'd never experienced sexual attraction for anyone other than Ignis, and back then he hadn't dared let himself think on that or develop it beyond that mild appreciation, because it seemed impossible that anything could ever come of it. His eventual impending marriage to Luna only solidified that. 

So maybe he finds sex a little weird. At least, the penetration aspects of it. But he can't deny he'd enjoyed it too, and wouldn't mind doing it again eventually. And since Ignis wasn't acting the least bit weirded out by it, Noct had decided it was something he just needed to be more grown up about and get over. Once he'd decided that, it was easy enough to push away any awkward, uncomfortable feelings, and be his usual self around Ignis. 

Only... Ignis has seemed distracted since showing up to his rooms, not focusing on any conversation, his mind clearly elsewhere. Noct's starting to get worried, wondering if it has anything to do with him, or last night, but for now he does his best to sit and play on his phone and leave Ignis to his thoughts, knowing Ignis won't bring it up until he's ready. 

He texts Prompto for awhile, the two of them talking about photography—now that things are settling down some with the city, Prompto's been thinking about getting back into it, and Noct's doing all he can to encourage his best friend. He's always enjoyed Prompto's pictures, and he has such skill that it'd be a shame to let it keep languishing. 

Eventually, the conversation that Noct's been low-key dreading comes as Ignis speaks suddenly into the silence, his tone serious, the words heavy. "Noct, I'd like to ask you something, and please be honest with me." 

"Uh..." Noct looks up from his phone, his free hand pausing in its absent journey along Effy's back. She lets out a tiny mewl of displeasure, and jumps down. "That doesn't sound good." Ignis' face is solemn, and it makes Noct nervous. 

"Were you dissociating last night when you came to me?" 

Well, fuck. Noct _could_ lie, could tell Ignis that other than that one time a couple weeks ago, he's been better lately, but... he doesn't _want_ to lie to Ignis, not directly. "...Yeah," he admits quietly. 

"And yesterday afternoon?" 

"Yeah," Noct says again, shame burning uncomfortably in his throat. How had Ignis found out? He'd tried so hard not to let on, to pretend that he was fine, to not worry Ignis, but he'd figured it out anyway, and now he knows how pathetic Noct really is. 

Ignis lets out a heavy sigh. "Has there been any time you've initiated sex when you were _not_ dissociating?" he asks, and why does Ignis' tone make Noct feel so much like a small child getting scolded? He stays silent, knowing that's saying more than any words he could come up with. "I see," Ignis says quietly, bowing his head and drawing away. Noct reaches out for him, brushing their hands together, but Ignis pulls back, his body going tense. 

The rejection hurts. Noct's eyes feel hot, burning with sudden tears he's not going to cry. "I'm sorry," he says, not even sure what he's apologising for, but feeling like he needs to. Ignis is a lot more upset than Noct expected him to be, and it scares him. He gets the sense that he's fucked up more than he realised somehow. 

"Noct... I fear using sex as a way to deal with your negative feelings isn't healthy. And it makes me feel rather used, as well." 

"I'm not using you!" Noct denies immediately, frowning. He'd thought Ignis would be mad that he's been dissociating and not saying anything, not... feel _used_. That Noct doesn't understand. He doesn't think he's been using Ignis. 

Ignis lifts his head, looking toward him. There's a sad, hurt look on his face that makes Noct's stomach clench. "You seek sex from me in order to make yourself feel better. It stops or lessens your dissociation in some way, I presume. You don't seek sex just because you want it, or _me_." 

Noct's stomach clenches harder, and he wraps an arm over it, swallowing back nausea. He feels horribly sick. He doesn't get why this is such a big deal. "I want you," he says, forcing the words out around the knot of anxiety. "I do, Ignis, I _like_ the things we do together. You make me feel good, and I like making you feel good too. Yeah, that's not the only reason, I want to stop disconnecting from everything, but—but if it helps, why does it matter? We're still enjoying it, right?" 

There's a long moment where Ignis says nothing, long enough that Noct's not sure Ignis _is_ going to respond, and the longer it goes on the more he feels like he's going to hurl. His phone chimes with a text, probably Prompto wondering why he hasn't gotten a reply yet, and the brief noise sounds explosive in the otherwise silent room, making him startle. 

When Ignis finally does answer, he doesn't directly address what Noct said. "When you are dissociating, you are more than welcome to come to me. I will hold you, and listen if you wish to talk about whatever is upsetting you. But I will not have sex with you. It's a short-term solution, one that isn't healthy, and you need better coping mechanisms. You need to consider therapy, Noctis, and medication." 

A few tears slip down his cheeks at Ignis' words, but Noct ignores them. He still feels sick, but numb too. He doesn't want therapy, he just wants to be _better_. He'd thought he'd found a way to at least deal with it. But Ignis is upset now, hurting because of Noct, and he doesn't know what to do. If he doesn't get therapy, will Ignis eventually leave him? Just the thought sends a thrum of panicky fear through him. "I'm sorry," he whispers, helpless and confused. He doesn't know what else to say. 

Ignis doesn't say anything, doesn't accept his apology or move to reassure him that it's okay even if Noct fucked up, and that scares him. "Ignis—" He reaches out again, fingers brushing against Ignis' leg, and Ignis flinches. Noct draws his hand back in disbelief, staring at Ignis briefly before dropping his eyes to his lap. "I want to be alone now," he says, his voice a lot steadier than he currently feels. 

Ignis nods, getting up from the couch, and at the doorway he pauses, looking back in Noct's direction, his pale eye staring somewhere to Noct's left. "Please consider it," he says, and then leaves. 

* * *

Noct spends the next few days once more hiding away in his room. His thoughts are in constant turmoil, trying to pinpoint exactly why Ignis is so upset, and if Noct had really been using him like he'd said. He still has trouble seeing it that way, still stuck on the fact that as long as they both enjoyed it, any other benefits he got from it shouldn't matter. And if it helps, why can't he keep doing it? 

Yet Ignis doesn't agree, and wants him to consider therapy instead... The fear that Ignis will leave him if he doesn't still lurks within him. Ignis hadn't phrased it as an ultimatum as such, hadn't said _get therapy or I'll end this relationship_ , but to Noct there seems to be little difference. Ignis is tired of him, tired of all his problems and fuck-ups, and he's not going to keep putting up with them forever. If Noct doesn't get help, then Ignis probably will leave—and Noct honestly wouldn't blame him. 

The second day Noct holes up in his bedroom, Ignis shows up in the late afternoon with food for him, by now well used to Noct's penchant for skipping meals when he's upset. It bothers Noct—Ignis is upset too, even if Noct doesn't understand the reasons, and he shouldn't have to be taking care of Noct still, or worrying over him. 

"Thanks," he mumbles as Ignis hands him the plate, dragging himself upright. He has no appetite whatsoever, but he's resigned himself to eating, knowing Ignis will continue to fret until he does. He eats in silence, and it's a little awkward, having Ignis there with this tension hanging thin between them, but he doesn't really have any idea what to say. 

Stomach full, he shoves the half-eaten plate away from him to the end of the bed, dropping the fork onto it with a loud clatter, signifying to Ignis that he's done. Ignis doesn't move to take it, and after a moment of quiet he speaks, his tone uncertain. "Do you feel up to talking?" 

"Not really," Noct says with a sigh. He scoots his body back down, burrowing under his covers, careful not to jostle the plate. 

"Are you wishing to end things?" Ignis asks. 

"No!" Noct jerks back upright, sending the plate toppling to the floor, food spilling everywhere, but he doesn't care. "Gods, Specs, no, I don't want to end it," Noct says, and wonders how Ignis could sound so calm when asking such a thing. Unless— "Do you?" It takes everything in him to force the question out, and he sucks in a breath, holding it painfully as he waits for the answer. 

"Not in the least," Ignis says softly, and Noct breathes again. 

He slides out of bed, beginning to scoop the mess of food back on the plate, shooing away Ignis' attempts to help. "I just wanna be alone for a bit still," he eventually mutters, scraping the last of the food off his bed, making a face at the stain left behind. He should probably change the bedding, but he doesn't have the energy for that much effort. 

"I'll give you space for now," Ignis says, taking the plate from him. Noct crawls back into bed and drags the blankets over his head once Ignis is gone. 

* * *

Prompto shows up the next day. Noct's not really surprised. He's been ignoring his best friend's texts, and Prompto's always had a good sense for when something's bothering him anyway. "Okay, Noct, spill," Prompto says, poking him as he sits on the opposite edge of the bed. "Ignis has been moping around all sad and you've retreated to being a hermit again, something's obviously up between you two." 

Noct groans, contemplating whether or not he'd be able to convince Prompto to go away. Or if he even wants him to. He doesn't feel any more that he's in the wrong, but he doesn't know how to fix things with Ignis, because he knows any attempts at talking they have will go nowhere as long as they're not seeing the same point of view. And while the thought of telling Prompto all of it is embarrassing, he'd helped last time, without really making fun of him... 

He rolls over onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes. If he's going to talk about it, he's absolutely not going to look at Prompto while he does. "It's about sex," he says, deciding he's going to be blunt. 

"Aw man," Prompto says, though he doesn't actually sound bothered by it. "No details dude, please? I don't need those mental pictures in my head. It's enough to know you and Iggy are boning." 

Noct smirks, though he feels too apathetic to muster up any real amusement. "No promises." 

Prompto sighs. "Okay, lay it on me." 

"Ignis thinks I've been using him." 

"When you guys are doing it?" Prompto asks, and Noct nods. "Woah, that's... kinda serious sounding. How'd he get that idea? What exactly are you guys doing?" 

Noct's stomach is twisting in sudden knots, realising he's going to have to mention his dissociation. It's not something he really wants to talk about with Prompto—he barely talks about it with Ignis, even. "Thought you didn't want the details," he says, trying to delay the inevitable. 

"Noct," Prompto says. 

Groaning again, he rolls back on his side, curling up in a ball. "I've been dissociating a lot lately," he says quietly, keeping it simple. "Sex helps." 

"But you never told Ignis you were dissociating," Prompto guesses. 

"Didn't want him to worry," Noct mutters. 

"Noct, that's... I can see why he feels used. Poor Iggy." 

"What?" Noct sits up, looking at Prompto in shock, any embarrassment forgotten. "You're taking his side?" 

Prompto frowns, scratching nervously at his neck, looking away. "I don't think it's about sides..." 

Noct crosses his arms over his chest, wishing now that he'd never bothered with this conversation. "I just don't see what the big deal is," he grumbles. "It's not like I don't also enjoy what we do. I don't see how that's using him." 

"Bud, the fact that you qualified that statement with 'also' is a pretty big indication of why Ignis feels used." 

"I don't follow..." 

Prompto lets out a loud sigh. "Does Ignis initiate things sometimes?" he asks, and Noct nods. "How does it make you feel?" 

"Good," Noct says, hating that he can feel himself blushing. This is getting too close to details. And he's not willing to discuss all the emotions he feels when Ignis makes it obvious he's in the mood, how special and loved and desirable he feels, how good it is to know that another person wants him in that way. "I don't know... wanted?" he adds, when it seems like Prompto's waiting for more. 

"Uh-huh," Prompto says. "And if you found out that Iggy was really only initiating because he was upset and wanted to make himself feel better, would you still feel wanted? Would you feel like it was really you that he wanted, or any warm body that could give him sex and make him feel better?" 

Noct stays silent. He thinks he might be starting to see Prompto's—and more importantly, Ignis'—view of things, and he hates it. 

Placing a hand on his arm, Prompto looks at him, expression so solemn it makes him uncomfortable. "Noct, has there been any time at all during your relationship where you've initiated just because you wanted that intimacy and closeness with Iggy? Where it wasn't about dissociating, but because you _wanted_ him, wanted only to make him feel good and didn't have an ultimate, selfish goal in mind?" 

Jerking his arm away, Noct closes his eyes, his face burning, heart pounding. The word _selfish_ rings loudly in his ears, ugly and accusing. He wants to deny it, but when he opens his mouth, the words don't come, because Prompto's _right_. "I wanna be alone," he says instead. 

Noct curls back up after Prompto leaves, reaching out to pet Effy when she jumps up on the bed with him shortly after. He feels restless, and mad at himself, because he _has_ been using Ignis. Maybe not consciously, maybe not deliberately, but still using him. "Fuck," he says quietly. It's a wonder Ignis is still willing to even be with him after how terrible he's been. Ignis must really love him. 

The thought makes him feel even worse, and even more upset with himself, because he can't even figure out how he feels in return, or say it back, so what exactly is he even giving Ignis in this relationship? Ignis _should_ want to end things with him, because Noct doesn't deserve him. 

Fumbling for his phone, he snatches it to him, angrily swiping to put in his passcode and unlock it before bringing up the messaging app. He doesn't want to wallow in bed anymore. He's got too much anger at himself coursing through him, and he needs to work it out. He pulls up Gladio's name, quickly typing out a message. _Up for a spar?_

He half-expects some ribbing about being willing to leave his room, but all Gladio sends back is, _Sure. 45 min?_

_You're on_ , he replies, and goes to shower for the first time in three days. 

* * *

Their spar turns out to be less of a fight and more of Gladio simply defending himself while Noct attacks him relentlessly, warping at him and swinging his weapons aggressively, running through multiple royal arms in an attempt to get in a real hit. Once he'd taken the first swing, all of his anger had come rushing out, and he hadn't been able to hold back. It's not even that he wants to hurt Gladio; rather, he wants Gladio to hurt _him_ , but Gladio refuses to fight back, and the only thing Noct can hope to do is goad him into it. 

"Why won't you fight me," Noct growls in frustration at one point, tossing a dagger at him and hurling himself after it. He slams into Gladio's shield with a grunt, barely even taking notice of the pain as he climbs to his feet. 

"Calm down and I will," Gladio says, raising his shield as Noct brings his mace crashing down on him. 

Dismissing the mace, Noct yanks out a greatsword, thinking Gladio will _have_ to fight back with something so big. Unfortunately, he forgets how slow he is with them, and it's even worse since he's already tired, near exhaustion from the constant warping. By the time he completes the swing, Gladio's already stepped neatly out of the way. As soon as Noct regains his balance, returning the sword to the armiger, Gladio's there, slamming him down to the floor, pinning him with his whole body. 

Noct squirms for a moment, trying to break free, but he knows it's futile. Gladio's bigger and stronger than him, and he's worn out. "What the fuck, Gladio," he grinds out. "Let me go." 

Gladio doesn't respond, and Noct struggles harder, determined to get free. Gladio has his hands wrapped around Noct's wrists, and all his movement is aggravating the still-tender flesh on his recently healed wound, but he doesn't stop. "You're hurting me," he whines, and Gladio doesn't let go, but he does loosen his grip some. It's enough for Noct to get a hand free, and he immediately swings up, catching him in the nose. 

Gladio grunts in pain, grabbing Noct's hand again as blood begins to flow from his nose, running down his face and over his mouth. He grimaces, but doesn't move to wipe it away, once more pinning Noct's arm securely to the floor instead. 

Seeing that makes all the fight go out of Noct, his rage draining away as guilt floods in to take its place. He quits fighting, letting his body go limp underneath Gladio, feeling shame creeping in a hot flush up his neck. They're both silent for a moment, the only sound in the room that of Noct's harsh breathing. 

Loosening his grip again, Gladio waits to see if Noct will do anything, and finally moves to wipe some of the blood from his face when Noct remains still. "Talk," Gladio says then. 

Noct turns his head away, still staying silent for awhile, taking deep breaths to get his breathing under control. He can feel his eyes growing wet, but he refuses to cry. When he's calm enough, he speaks. "I messed up," he tells Gladio quietly. 

Finally, Gladio lets him up, holding out a hand to pull him to his feet. They take their usual bench in the locker room, Gladio holding a damp cloth to his nose to stop the bleeding. 

"Sorry for hitting you," Noct mutters, fresh guilt washing over him. 

Gladio shakes his head. "It's fine. You don't hit that hard. What'd you mess up?" 

Noct sighs, and briefly explains the situation for Gladio, hating himself even more as he hears it as it really is. Gladio simply listens as he lays it out, letting him talk as much as he needs. "He's really upset with me," Noct finally says, and then falls silent, looking down at his lap, disliking how vulnerable he feels at admitting his returned dissociation to Gladio. Gladio had been the one to warn him originally, and Noct had arrogantly brushed him aside... He knows Gladio's not going to rub it in his face, but it's still humiliating. 

"Yeah, okay," Gladio says, "you messed up, but it ain't the end of the world. Iggy's upset, and he's got every right to be, but I ain't never seen someone love anyone as much as he loves you." Gladio reaches out with his free hand, clapping it on Noct's shoulder. "He'll forgive you, Noct, you just gotta talk to him." 

"Yeah," Noct agrees, and he knows Gladio's right, but he also knows that he isn't ready to talk to Ignis yet. "Thanks, Gladio." 

"Any time, Princess." 

* * *

Noct doesn't spend the next day holed up in his room. Instead, he wanders the palace, Effy by his side, more than happy for the chance to explore the hallways and empty rooms. While she does, he takes the time to think. 

Ignis wants him to consider therapy, and Noct's always been resistant to the idea, not able to picture himself spilling out about _feelings_ to a complete stranger, but he's starting to think he may have no choice in the matter. And not because he's afraid Ignis will leave him if he doesn't, but because he can admit that he needs help. He needs to talk to someone, someone that's impartial and won't judge him, because he's so messed up and he doesn't think he can keep going on like this anymore, doesn't _want_ to go on like this. 

Every day keeps getting harder and harder, always wondering as he wakes when (not if, it hasn't been a question of _if_ for weeks now) he's going to dissociate, what's going to set him off, how many times it's going to happen, whether he'll be able to seek Ignis out to stop it... and that's terrible too, that he could use Ignis that way and not even see anything wrong in what he was doing. 

And he just can't handle all of that in his head anymore, can't handle the stress and fear and upset of losing his grip on the world, or the constantly trying to grapple with the loss of ten years... He's so tired and depressed and he _hates_ himself, hates the person he is and the person he's becoming. And he doesn't have the luxury of hating himself, he's got to pull himself together and be a king to his people—only that's something else he hates too, because he doesn't feel good enough, doesn't feel mature enough or worthy enough to be their king. 

He just wants to die, and that terrifies him. To him, it doesn't feel so long ago that he was so angry with Gladio's insinuations, trying to convince his Shield that he wasn't trying to kill himself, that he didn't want to die or for the Crystal to kill him. When had that changed? How could Noct ever have looked at those pills the first time and thought, ' _this is a good idea_ '? How did he go from so desperately hoping to survive to constantly thinking about ways to end it all? 

He doesn't want that any more. Not that he ever really did, but he doesn't want to be oblivious to his denial about how bad things are any longer. He doesn't want to keep lying to himself that it's not so bad, or that he'll get better if he just tries hard enough, or waits long enough. He doesn't want any more of the doubts or self-loathing or feelings of not being good enough, or _adult_ enough. He doesn't want to have a panic attack every time he looks in the mirror, or stumbles across something that's changed from how he remembers it. He wants to be happy and healthy again, or at least to be the self he was before he went in the Crystal. 

Only... the thought of talking to someone, of telling them every emotion, every fear and worry and uncertainty... that scares him still. Even if he goes, he's not sure he can manage that. And if he _does_ , but it still doesn't work... what then? Will he just have to keep feeling like this forever? Will he always be screwed up, hurting himself and the ones he loves because he's too messed up in the head to realise what he's doing to them? 

Noct sighs, stopping right where he is in the hallway, leaning his forehead against the wall and closing his eyes. After a moment he turns around, sliding his back down the wall as he sinks to the floor, drawing his knees up to his chest. Effy wanders out of a nearby room, looking for him, and he pats the floor hard to draw her attention. Eventually she senses the vibrations and comes over, the bell on her collar tingling loudly. 

"What should I do, Effy?" Noct murmurs to her, reaching out to scratch around her ears and under her chin. She purrs, bumping her head softly against his palm, her tail curling around his arm, resting gently against the new scar that's there. It makes him smile a little. At least there's one being he hasn't hurt, one being that doesn't see him for the messed up person he is. 

Sighing again, Noct uses his free hand to pull his phone from his pocket, pulling up the browser on it. Before he can think too much about it, or change his mind, he runs a search for therapists in Lestallum, tapping the first result that pops up. Half an hour later, he's got a kitten curled up asleep in his lap, and several names and numbers saved to his phone. They'll all need to be vetted before he actually makes any appointments, of course, but it's a start. 

He backs out of the browser, bringing up his messenger app, tapping on his messages with Ignis. _Can we talk later?_ he sends. 

_Certainly_ , comes the reply a couple of minutes later. Noct looks at it, then gathers up his courage and calls the first number on his list. 

* * *

"Noct?" 

"Over here," Noct says, raising his voice, and Ignis begins walking towards the sound. "I'm on the bench," he adds, and soon Ignis is sitting next to him. Noct falls silent again, and goes back to watching Effy pouncing on some leaves that are blowing around in the light breeze. Ignis stays quiet as well, letting him gather his thoughts into something resembling coherency. 

"I screwed up." 

"You did," Ignis agrees evenly. 

Noct sighs, wondering if Ignis will pull away if he tries to touch him. He's not on the verge of disconnecting from the world, but his stomach's a knot of anxiety over the direction this conversation might go, and he knows the contact will calm him some. Being rejected last time hurt though, and he's not eager to have that happen again. He keeps his hands in his lap for now. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. "Not just for using you, but for everything." 

"Everything?" 

"You keep having to put up with me." 

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." 

"You know!" Noct gestures in frustration, sweeping his arm wide as if to somehow encompass that 'everything.' "Having to deal with all my—my _episodes_ , and trying to kill myself, and we both know you've basically been Insomnia's king these past months..." 

"I don't consider any of that as 'putting up' with you," Ignis says. "I don't need an apology for any of it; I understand most of it is beyond your control." 

"But I'm so messed up," Noct says miserably. "Fuck, Specs, I didn't see anything wrong with what I was doing, I was so _selfish_ , I just wanted to stop feeling bad and I didn't think about how you'd see it—" 

"Noct," Ignis says, reaching his hand out. Noct takes it gratefully, curling their fingers together, relieved that Ignis isn't avoiding his touch anymore. "Please don't continue to berate yourself for your mistakes. I accept your apology for it, but I only want for you to understand what you did wrong and to endeavour to not do it again. Beyond that, I simply want for you to be happy." 

Noct breathes out slowly, suddenly feeling like he might cry and hoping desperately that he doesn't. His emotions have been so crazy the last few months, always too intense and changing in mere seconds, triggered by the smallest things, and it's wearying. If he never cries again it'll still be too soon. "I want that too," he admits, the words barely above a whisper. 

"Have you given any more consideration to talking to someone?" Ignis asks. 

Fingers tightening around Ignis', Noct swallows. This is the part of the conversation he's been dreading. Even though it's what Ignis wants, he's scared to tell him that he'd spent most of the afternoon calling therapists. Scared to make it real, scared still that it might not help, or that he'll mess it up somehow. And it's irritating too, because it's yet another thing he ultimately needs Ignis' help with—he has no idea how to make sure whoever he goes with won't spill all his secrets to the media. 

"I know it's hard," Ignis says quietly. "You've never been one for talking about your feelings. None of us have, I suppose. But this is beyond my ability to help you, Noct, and I'm afraid that if you keep going like this, I'll lose you one day." 

_Trust your friends. You're not alone!_ The messages Carbuncle had sent to him in his dream come backs to him, and Noct grips Ignis' hand even harder. He knows the little fox is right. He needs to trust his friends, trust _Ignis_. Keeping things to himself hasn't been doing him any favours. "I... I called some people today," he says haltingly. "I didn't make any appointments yet, but there were a couple... I wanted to make sure I could trust them first. I was hoping you could help me with that." 

"Of course," Ignis says immediately, but he sounds surprised. "That's a big step to take. I'm proud of you." 

Noct feels his cheeks heat at the praise, and he lets out a breath as some of the tension drains from him. He told Ignis, asked for his help, and the world didn't end. He watches as Effy wanders over to them, jumping up on the bench next to Noct and bumping her head insistently against his leg. "Alright, Effy, alright," he murmurs, using his free hand to begin petting her, dislodging bits of dead grass and leaves from her fur. 

They're quiet for awhile, Noct petting Effy absently as he lets his thoughts drift. Now that he's told Ignis, he feels committed. He's going to have to make an appointment, and go speak to someone about his problems. It feels like a huge pressure already. He's so afraid that he won't be able to do it. Or even _get_ there—Lestallum still gives him trouble. It's so different from his memories, and he still remembers the overwhelming panic he'd had when he took Effy to the vet there. If that happens again... "Will you go along with me to Lestallum?" he asks Ignis abruptly, glancing to him. 

Ignis tilts his head, his brow furrowing. "Lestallum?" 

"Whenever I make an appointment... there isn't anyone here in Insomnia yet." 

"Ah," Ignis says knowingly. Noct's sure he still remembers the disaster that their last trip there together had been, when they'd went with Prompto. "Certainly, I will accompany you if that's what you wish." 

Noct sighs. "I wish I didn't have to go at all," he mumbles. 

"It will get easier." 

Noct scoots closer, closing the gap between them, and leans against Ignis, resting his head on Ignis' shoulder. "I hope so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Yay, Noct's finally going to get therapy! Now things are going to start getting better, right? Right, fayth? Noct deserves happiness!"
> 
> Well yes, Noct deserves happiness, and he'll get it... but please recall the opening notes, where I described this as "the most self-indulgent angst fest ever" >:D
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways... explanation. Which I've been told I owe nobody, but I feel like I should anyways. So... last Tuesday I took an entire bottle of prozac. I wouldn't recommend it. I'm alive, obviously, but I spent hours in the ER and then overnight in the ICU before they threw me in a mental hospital for four days (and Saturday was my birthday... what a great place to spend it). I only got out last night. That's why I didn't post a new chapter. Also, a side effect is that I'm trembling. My hands and arms and mouth... well, it's hard to type without making typos. And just as hard to correct them. That's why this chapter isn't edited, and why there may not be a new chapter for a bit. It's too frustrating to write at the moment, and this is the last completed chapter I had in reserve. But I'm still not giving up on this fic. I'm gonna write it or... well. I'm gonna write it.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I'm back! Who would have thought? Not me.
> 
> Sorry this took me months, but please enjoy (cry at?) the angst, and please excuse my rustiness at not having written in awhile! Oh and I promise no regular update schedule like before, but it should be somewhat frequent again hopefully?
> 
> In regards to my end notes on the last chapter, see the end notes for this chapter if you're interested.

"I don't know if I can do this."

"You can," Ignis says. "You fought Ardyn and took back your throne. This should be simple enough compared to that." 

Noct grips the steering wheel tighter, his body rigid as he stares out at the city before him. "Technically haven't reclaimed the throne yet," he mutters, and then in a louder voice adds, "and I'd rather fight Ardyn a hundred more times than do this." 

"I fear you'd need far more therapy if you were to do that. Facing that man so many times would drive anyone insane," Ignis says, keeping his tone deliberately light. 

Closing his eyes, Noct fights against the urge to start the truck again and just go back to Insomnia. "I'm scared," he admits in a small voice. He's not sharing every single feeling, or even most of them, but he's been making an effort this past week to at least be more honest about them when the situation calls for it. 

"I know." 

They sit there quietly, and finally Noct takes a deep breath, gathering up his courage and opening his door. "Let's go," he says, and gets out of the truck. On the other side, Ignis does the same. 

It's hard getting through Lestallum. Noct can feel himself getting more and more panicky, but he tries hard to hold it back—it took so much of him already to get here, and he really doesn't want to screw this up. Ignis has been wanting him to do this for so long, and even though Noct's still not sure _he_ wants to do this, he doesn't want to let Ignis down, doesn't want to hurt him any more than he already has. That Ignis so easily forgave him for being selfish and using him—Noct's well aware he didn't deserve that, and he feels like he owes Ignis this. 

Ignis' hand brushes subtly, briefly against the small of his back, and even that simple contact helps, if only slightly. "It will be alright," Ignis murmurs just before they step into the small building that is Noct's chosen therapist's office. Noct doesn't believe him in the least, but it's nice to hear the words still. 

Being in the office only makes his nerves heighten, feeling sick to his stomach as he's handed paperwork to fill out, the fact that he's actually going to do therapy becoming increasingly real, even as everything else starts feeling unreal. He wants desperately to grab Ignis' hand, to lean against him, find some sort of contact that will help ground him, but being out in public, in this office where they're not alone and strangers know he's not okay, makes him too self-conscious to. 

But it's hard to fill out forms when there's a crushing weight on his chest, suffocating him, and every ragged breath he manages to take is torture, the sound of them deafening in the otherwise silent office. He bites down hard on his lip, trying to stifle them, barely noticing the blood he draws a few minutes later. He stares down at the clipboard in his lap, the questions on the paper blurring before him as a few tears rim his eyes, and he bites down even harder. 

This is a mistake. He never should have done this, should have known he wouldn't be able to handle it, that all he'd accomplish with this is disappointing Ignis. Just as with everything else lately, he's a failure. He should really be used to that fact by now, but instead it hurts. 

Ignis leans over, pressing his shoulder firmly against Noct—either sensing his distress or knowing him well enough to understand how not together he'll be in this situation. "You can do this," he says softly. The touch isn't nearly enough to satisfy Noct, and the words have little meaning when he has so much doubt, but they calm him enough to finish struggling his way through the paperwork. He reluctantly stumbles on leaden legs over to the secretary to hand the now completed forms back, flushing at her concerned and somewhat confused look. 

Ignis leans back against him when he retakes his seat, and Noct does his best to steady his breath and calm down while he waits to be called in. He's not really successful, but it at least keeps him from getting any worse. When he's called in, it takes him a long moment to force himself to pull away from Ignis and head into the room. 

He takes a seat on the comfortable-looking worn plush couch across from the desk against the opposite wall as the therapist shuts the door behind them, and watches as she takes her own seat, swivelling around to face him. His heart's pounding so loud that he's sure she can hear it, and it makes him feel embarrassed and ashamed, his face flushing. 

"Hello Noctis, I'm Dr. Sidra," she says, tucking long strands of light brown hair behind her ear. 

Noct looks at her, trying to focus on the gentle smile on her face and the soft kindness in her brown eyes, knowing he should open his mouth and utter a greeting, but he's too aware of the signs that he's slipping into a full-blown panic attack, his whole body trembling as it gets harder to breathe again. Sweat's trickling down his back, pooling uncomfortably against the waistband of his jeans and making his shirt sticky, and he wants to shift, pull his shirt away, but he's too frozen with anxiety. 

He's not ready for this. He wants to be, _needs_ to be, knows that he needs the help if he's ever going to get truly better, but now that he's actually here, it's too overwhelming. Looking at the woman across from him, he can't even begin to imagine telling her every little messed up thought in his head—and even if he could, where would he start? With his suicide attempt, with the fact that he still wants to be dead, with selfishly using his boyfriend for sex to stop all the distressing sensations of dissociation? Or maybe how he can't even think about the throne room and everything that happened there without wanting to throw up, or the constant self-blame and hatred he feels for himself for everything that went down in Altissia, or how his mind refuses to accept the fact that he was in the Crystal for ten years? 

There's so much, too much, and he doesn't see how he could ever talk about all of that and have it fixed, as if talking is some kind of miracle cure. He feels stupid, suddenly, for ever entertaining the idea that there was hope for him. For trying to make himself believe that he could ever do this, even just for Ignis. 

"Noctis? Are you with me?" 

A few tears drip down Noct's cheeks, and he pulls his legs up onto the couch, burying his face in his knees as he tries to control his too-rapid breathing, ignoring Dr. Sidra for the moment. He's sick with dread and shame, and just wants to go home. 

"Do you need me to get your friend?" 

Silently, he shakes his head, his fingers tightening, nails digging into his legs sharply. He doesn't want Ignis to know just how this disaster of an appointment has gone already. He'll be so disappointed in him... 

"Okay," she says calmly. "You're having a panic attack, Noctis. You need to steady your breathing." 

Noct wants to tell her he's more than aware of that, but the humiliation keeps his face hidden. He listens as her chair rolls across the room to him, and braces himself to feel her hand against his arm, but the touch he's expecting doesn't come. Instead, she begins softly talking him through a breathing exercise, and he does his best to follow along, but it's so hard when the world's falling away from him and she's a stranger. He wants Ignis, or even Prompto or Gladio—someone he _knows_ , someone that can reassure him he's here and alive and will be okay. 

Despite that, he does eventually manage to calm down with her help, and he slumps back into the couch as his breathing steadies, feeling drained and sleepy and utterly embarrassed. "I'm sorry," he manages to mumble, keeping his eyes averted from her. 

"There's no need to apologise," she says. "These things happen. You're certainly not the first patient to suffer a panic attack in my office. I promise, I don't think any less of you." The smile she gives him with those words is nice, but doesn't make him feel better. He doesn't care about other people. He's supposed to be a king, he's fought more daemons than many people have ever seen, he's faced down Ardyn and fought multiple Astrals, more or less destroyed the Niflheim empire... the prospect of talking about his feelings shouldn't have him crying and huddling on the couch like a small child. 

"Yeah," he says when she doesn't go on, just to have _something_ to say, no matter how inane. He stays quiet as she finally begins to explain the process of therapy, how she works and what he might expect from sessions, but he already knows there's no way he can come back and try this a second time. It's too hard, and though he's never let that stop him from things in the past—he saved Eos after all, and that certainly wasn't a walk in the park—this is different. He's never before truly believed he would fail at something the way he feels he's failing at this. Even when reclaiming his throne seemed like an impossible dream, when it seemed as if the Crystal would kill him before he could even make it to Altissia, he'd always held faith that somehow he'd pull through, that he'd survive and everything would turn out okay in the end. 

He doesn't feel like that at all now. He survived, but not everything turned out okay, and he's not sure now that it ever will, no matter how much he wants it all to. 

When his time's up, Noct goes out and makes a second appointment so that he doesn't worry Ignis, but he has no intentions of keeping it, no matter how guilty that makes him feel. He's quiet on the ride home, and though Ignis doesn't say anything, Noct can sense his concern and curiosity. He heads straight to his rooms when he gets back, Ignis following behind, and curls up on his bed next to a dozing Effy, not even bothering to pull off his shoes. 

"Is everything alright?" Ignis asks. He's hovering in the doorway, looking in the direction of the bed where he likely heard Noct settle, worry lines creasing his forehead. "Did the appointment go okay?" 

"Yeah," Noct says quietly. "It was fine. Can I be alone?" 

"Of course." 

Once Ignis has gone, he expects to cry until his eyes are red and his head aches, but he finds that he can't. He feels too numb. For months, he's so desperately been wanting things to get better, to find some way to feel normal and happy again, hoping that if he just tried hard enough then he would have all that. But now... 

He wasn't sure if therapy would help him, if he could bring himself to do it, but he'd _hoped_. Hoped so deeply that he didn't even dare acknowledge the depth of it to himself. But now that's gone. He couldn't even get to the point of talking before having a panic attack—there's no hope of him ever getting better. He's going to be stuck like this forever, constantly struggling to stay in the present and to feel equal to his friends, always triggered into panicking or dissociating by the littlest of things, knowing he doesn't deserve anything he has in his life. 

But then, why _should_ he be stuck like this? It really wouldn't be so bad if he was gone, would it? If he just took one of his daggers from the Armiger and dug into the soft skin of his wrist with the tip of it? Deeper and deeper until blood ran red rivulets down his arm and the pain made him grit his teeth lest he screamed and alerted somebody. Only then would he drag the dagger down, splitting his skin open wide all the way to his elbow. 

Of course, he'd have to do his right arm after that, and it'd be harder, not using his dominant hand and likely light-headed from the blood loss by then, but Noct's sure he'd manage somehow. 

Or maybe he could find some pills again, do it right this time. It feels like taking the easy way out, just going to sleep and not waking up, but there's something appealing in that thought too, and it would spare his friends the agony of finding him mutilated and bathed in blood. 

The problem with both of those options, however, is that he risks being found and saved before he dies. Maybe he should just get one of Prompto's guns instead. Put it to his temple and pull the trigger until he's dead or there's no bullets left, whichever comes first. 

He hasn't had thoughts like this since falling apart in the throne room, and he knows they're dangerous, and not ones he should entertain, but they're so very, very tempting. Tempting enough that he's on the verge of actually summoning up his dagger. He shouldn't, he's promised that he wouldn't ever try again, but he's so tired, and he can't keep going on like this. It would be a relief to finally be free of everything. Noct needs that relief so badly, and he doesn't see any other way to get it. He hates the thought of hurting his friends, though, hurting Ignis... Without Noct there, their group would probably fall apart again, and Ignis would be alone again, and probably devastated at having lost Noct twice... 

It's enough to make him cry finally, soft sobs wrenching out of him as he curls up tighter, closing his eyes. He's a terrible person, and probably _should_ kill himself, because it's not the thought of Ignis sad and alone that's making him sob—it's that he still wants to do it despite knowing how much it would hurt Ignis. 

There's a nudge against his arms, pulling him from his thoughts, and then Effy's meowing at him in her soft, tiny voice. Noct uncurls slightly, enough to reach out a hand and pet her, stroking gently down her head and along her back, the feel of her warm fur comforting. She lets out another meow, bumping her head against his hand a few more times, and then wriggles her way under his arms to cuddle up against his chest, purring loudly. 

Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm down and turn his thoughts away from suicide. Maybe his friends aren't enough to keep him from doing it anymore, but if nothing else, he has to stay alive for Effy now, because she's tiny and innocent and loves him unconditionally, and she depends on him completely to be taken care of. She won't understand if he's suddenly gone. "I'm sorry, Effy," he murmurs to her. He continues to pet her, trying to focus his thoughts elsewhere, and though he can't quite get himself to stop wanting to do it, he eventually stops feeling as if he's going to put a plan in action at any moment. It's not much, but in the moment, it'll have to be enough. 

* * *

"I have some reports for you." 

"Thanks," Noct says, as Ignis steps over to his desk and places several pages down on it. He begins looking the first one over, but the numbers quickly all blur together. He's spent the past few days holed up in his office trying to distract himself from his mess of a life with work, the guilt of neglecting his kingdom being a sufficient driving force, and he's stayed late each night, because going to his room to try and sleep only invites dwelling on his thoughts and distressing nightmares. It's debatable how sufficient his distraction has been, because after only these few days, he's exhausted and finds it difficult to focus. 

He sighs, shuffling to the second page, finding a summary of some sort, but the words aren't any less blurry than the numbers on the previous page. "Summarise for me?" 

"Certainly. To start, you'll be happy to hear that the Crownsguard have been making good progress in reducing the wild beast population in Insomnia lately, in particular the new group Iris has assembled." 

"Good," Noct says, and he's aware how apathetic he sounds, and how it's going to make Ignis worry, but he can't bring himself to drum up any sort of enthusiasm for the statement, not even false enthusiasm. It's good news, good especially that he'll be able to worry less about any more of his citizens getting killed, he just... can't bring himself to care. He's still thinking with alarming frequency of taking a dagger to his arms, or swallowing down more pills, and how much of a horrible failure of a human being he is. Work is a distraction, but nothing he's going to get emotional over at the moment. 

Ignis is quiet a moment after Noct's reply, and when he next speaks, it has nothing to do with the reports he's brought. "Noct... is everything alright?" 

"Yeah," Noct says, but it's a very listless response, and Ignis doesn't look reassured. 

"Are you certain? You're not dissociating right now, are you?" Ignis presses. 

Noct sighs a second time, and completely gives up trying to skim the reports. "I'm tired," he says. 

"Perhaps a nap?" Ignis suggests, looking to the couch Noct had brought to his office a while back, wanting a better place for them to have sex than against his desk. Not that they've had any since Ignis realised Noct had been using him. Noct had tried a couple of times, but Ignis had shied away, saying that he wasn't feeling well. Noct had left the obvious excuse alone, and hasn't tried again. He doesn't care. It's just yet another thing to add to the list of things he's fucked up. 

"Not that kind of tired," Noct admits quietly. It feels risky to admit to even that much, but despite everything he still doesn't like to worry Ignis. 

"I see." Ignis goes to the couch himself, settling down on it, and then looks towards the direction he knows Noct to be in. "Come here." 

Noct does so hesitantly, worried that Ignis is going to try and make him talk about things, but instead Ignis gets him to lay down on his side, his head in Ignis' lap and feet curled up against the far arm of the couch. Ignis begins to trail his fingers lightly up and down Noct's arm, dipping down to skim along his back, and says nothing. It feels nice, and should be soothing, which he's sure is the intention, but it only makes Noct feel guilty. 

He doesn't deserve this. He's been thinking for _days_ in planned, graphic detail about killing himself, not caring enough what his death would do to Ignis, and yet like always Ignis is dropping everything to take care of him, to comfort him and help him, even after the terrible way that Noct hurt him so selfishly, and he absolutely is going to hurt Ignis even more when he fails to keep his second therapy appointment—he doesn't deserve this, he shouldn't be allowing it, but the guilt of it all keeps him silent. 

"I won't press you to talk, but know this. I know it doesn't seem so right now, but things _will_ eventually get better," Ignis says after they've stayed quiet awhile. "It will no doubt take time, and certainly be difficult, but I know you will get there. You're strong, Noct, stronger than you give yourself credit for. You've already taken one of the hardest steps by reaching out for help. You _can_ do this." 

Noct closes his eyes, swallowing hard, a few silent tears snaking down his face as he listens to Ignis' words. They're all wrong, Ignis is wrong, and _he's_ wrong, and he feels like the worst sort of person for it. He lays there in silent self-loathing, and continues to say nothing. 

* * *

There's a knock at his door. Noct's first instinct is to ignore it, preferring to wallow alone in his misery. He's given up on doing any work today, knowing the moment he dragged himself up from a nightmare that attempting it would be a lost cause. He's exhausted, his eyes gritty and aching, his energy non-existent, his stomach a heavy knot of dread. 

Whoever it is on the other side of the door doesn't give him a chance to avoid them, however, pulling open the door when there's no immediate response. 

"Hey, you wanna hang out?" 

At the sound of Prompto's voice, Noct tears his gaze away from the ceiling he's been staring unseeing at for the past hour, letting his eyes flicker over to his best friend giving him a hopeful look from the doorway. "Doing what?" he asks, trying not to sound as dull as he feels. 

Prompto shrugs, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him before coming to stand beside Noct's bed. He automatically reaches out a hand to pet Effy, who's sprawled out asleep across Noct's chest, but Noct shakes his head at him with a small frown. Anyone petting her while she's asleep startles her too badly, and Noct does his best to avoid that for her. "I dunno," Prompto says, withdrawing his hand with a sheepish grin. "We could chill here if you want, or if you feel up to going out, I got a new camera I wouldn't mind trying." 

"Yeah? Sounds good." It doesn't, not really, but it's probably better than continuing to hide away in his room and thinking about the best way to kill himself. And it's been a few weeks since they've hung out, which always makes him feel guilty, even if it's natural now that they're older. 

After carefully waking Effy and getting properly dressed for the cold winter weather, the two of them make their way out of the Citadel and begin wandering around the immediate neighbourhood. There aren't many people out today, but given the extreme temperature drop and nearly freezing rain they'd had yesterday, Noct doesn't find that too surprising. Though it makes him sad to not see the city active the way it would have been in past winters, it at least means he doesn't have to worry so much about being accosted by people desperate to shower him with their gratitude. 

They stop often for Prompto, though he spends half as much time fiddling with the camera settings as he does actually taking pictures. It gives Noct a nostalgic pain of remembrance for their high school years, though the city's different enough that he doesn't feel in danger of getting lost in the _when_ of things. Prompto also spends the first twenty minutes rambling on about all the specs and features of his camera despite knowing Noct won't understand half of it, and that adds to the nostalgia. 

"So what's new and exciting in the life of Noct?" Prompto eventually asks as they cut through a narrow alleyway to another street, having finally exhausted the topic of his camera. 

Noct shrugs, shivering in the chill breeze that swirls around them. "Dunno. Not much." 

"How's being king treating you lately? Noticed you've been in your office a lot lately, that oughta be making Iggy happy." 

Noct's honestly not sure if Prompto's fishing or just trying to make conversation, but either way, he wishes his friend would find something else to talk about, or even go back to babbling about his camera. He doesn't want to talk about any part of his life these days. "I guess." 

There's a pause, and Noct assumes it's Prompto getting distracted in what he's doing, but the words that come next are hesitant. "You and Ignis are okay, right? I mean, you worked out your issues from a few weeks ago, yeah? You guys haven't seemed distant with each other lately..." 

"Yeah, we're fine," Noct says quietly. "Mostly." 

"Mostly?" Prompto lowers his camera from the frozen trees he'd been focusing on, glancing over at Noct as he tilts his head. "What's not fine between you?" 

"Nothing. I don't want to talk about it." He doesn't want to talk about his sex life—or lack of, now—with Prompto anymore, and he's sure it'll be a moot point soon anyway, once Ignis learns he's not going back to therapy. He'll be lucky to have any sort of relationship after that. He's still half-convinced that Ignis will leave him if he doesn't go to therapy, even if Ignis has yet to express any such thoughts. 

After a long, uncertain look, Prompto raises his camera again, focusing before snapping a few shots. "Okay. But if you change your mind, you know I'll listen." 

"Yeah. Thanks," Noct says, though he doesn't think he will. Talking with his friends never truly gets him anywhere—he's no better off than he was six months ago when everything first started happening. And the one person who potentially can help, he can't bring himself to even say hello to without panicking. "How about your life?" he asks in an effort to move the conversation away from himself and reassure Prompto that he's fine. "Anything new? Or any _one_?" He can't quite muster up the teasing tone, but he's able to toss a brief smirk at his best friend. 

He expects Prompto to roll his eyes, shove at him with an exasperated look as he had the last time the topic came up, but instead Prompto goes red, hastily turning to his camera when Noct raises his eyebrows at him. "Who is it?" he demands, with the first real interest in anything he's shown in days. 

"Who?" Prompto asks, far too innocent. 

"Oh come on! You know all about my love life. Do I know her, is that why you don't want to say? Wait, it's not Iris, it it? I know you guys have been hanging out a lot since she came back." 

"Dude, Noct, no! Even if I was interested in her, she's Gladio's baby sister. He'd string me up by my balls." Prompto shivers, looking terrified. 

Noct shudders with him, imagining that all too easily. "No to Iris then. So who is she?" 

"It's—it's not really a thing," Prompto says, scratching at his neck, refusing to meet Noct's eyes. "We've only hooked up a few times, I'm not sure he wants a relationship." 

At _he_ , Noct's eyes widen, not expecting that. Not that he cares, of course, but Prompto has always seemed so firmly into women. Though, there'd been those couple of months after Gladio had first met Prompto when he'd teased Noct relentlessly about his best friend having a crush on him. Noct had chalked it up to Gladio being a dick, but maybe he'd seen something that Noct had missed. "You do?" he asks, leaving aside the question of who for the moment. 

Prompto reddens even more. "Maybe. Yeah. I don't know! Noct, you'll think it's weird!" he wails, which makes Noct think he really does know whoever this guy is. 

"Can't be any weirder than me and Ignis." 

"Buddy, the only thing weird about that is how long Ignis took to make a move. Gladio and I had bets." 

"Prompto," Noct groans, feeling his own face flush. "Well, now you owe me a name." 

There's quiet a moment as Prompto bites down on his lip, scrunching his face up. "Maybe... when I know where it's going," he says finally. "Then I'll tell you." 

"Deal," Noct agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I really want to thank everyone who left a comment on the last chapter (except the anon who commented saying they thought I offed myself. Fair maybe, but a little rude. Even without offing myself, I have a habit of disappearing from tumblr eventually because it's not livejournal and that depresses me). They were all so nice, and not what I was expecting at all, and I cried reading them. I wanted to reply to them, but at first it was just hard to type, and then when I could again, I couldn't figure out what to say and the longer it went on, the more I felt it would be weird to, and then I just stopped being at my computer altogether. Now that I'm back again though, I do still want to reply to them, so expect super late replies soon haha.
> 
> I'm doing... okay. Still struggling, and this summer has sucked royal hippogriff (three different infections, and I had to get all four of my wisdom teeth out after a month of intense pain, yay), but I have no plans to swallow any more bottles of prozac (seriously, would not recommend). And all the side effects have thankfully finally gone away, and I've finally gotten back into this fic/fandom, so hopefully I will be able to finally get this story finished in the next month or two. Which I know all of you who commented said I matter more than the fic, but I still feel guilty when I don't update for so long （￣ー￣；
> 
> Anyways, I don't want to make this some huge long thing, so thank you all again. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and as always feel free to let me know what you thought :D


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back again. I thought I would be able to finish/work more on this over the summer, but after I posted the last chapter I discovered I lost my financial aid for university because of an incomplete class. So I had to do three essays and an abstract in a week and a half, and then it took me until two days before the semester's start to get my aid sorted out and reinstated. And since then, my final semester has been killing me with all of the exams and essays and projects... Any spare time I've had, I've just been too tired to write.
> 
> But it's November, which means NaNoWriMo, and I made just finishing this fic my goal, even though it won't be 50K. Not sure I'll manage, but I'm making an effort. So have a chapter! :D The longest one yet at ~7820 words, whoo.
> 
> Also I'm giving a shout-out to Alyssa who looked over the first 1200 words and encouraged me that I wasn't churning out complete shit ;D

"Do you need company again tomorrow?"

The question immediately makes Noct's stomach twist. He puts his sandwich back down on his plate, the bite he'd intended to take now forgotten, and tries to figure out how in the world he should answer that. So far, he still hasn't told Ignis that he's not going to keep his appointment, making non-committal noises or changing the subject when Ignis mentions it. It's not outright lying, but it's certainly not honest, either, and after a week the guilt is suffocating him. Part of him wants to tell Ignis the truth, but he knows how upset and disappointed it will make him, and Noct _hates_ the thought of that. But he also hates the dishonesty just as much, and it leaves him feeling torn. 

"Noct?" 

He bites down on his lip, absently chewing at the cracked skin there. If he doesn't tell Ignis he's not going, then he _will_ have to outright lie to him, and that makes his stomach curl even more. He's fucked up so much in their relationship already, he doesn't want to screw this up too. At least not any more than he already is by making the decision not to go. "I'm not going to go," he finally admits, keeping his voice low, as if that will somehow make the admittance seem less bad. 

Ignis is quiet for a long moment, and that makes anxiety grab at Noct's heart, clutching it tightly. "I don't expect you to talk to me about your appointments or what goes on in them," Ignis says eventually. "Whatever went wrong with the first one, you need not tell me. But please don't let it hold you back. Setbacks and difficulties are to be expected, especially at the start. You _need_ this, Noct. You need the help I can't give you." 

Noct leans down, setting his now abandoned lunch on the floor, and then huddles back against the couch, pressing himself up into the cushions. Ignis' worry and dismay are palpable, crushing Noct under their weight. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't want to tell Ignis what happened last time. It's too humiliating, making his face burn with shame at how much of a failure he is. But how is he supposed to get Ignis to understand that there's no hope for him? That no matter what he tries, he's not going to get better? 

His eyes burn, but he's not going to cry. He's tired of doing that. It's pointless. Everything's pointless, his life is nothing anymore and he's so tired of it all. "Nobody can help me." 

"You can't know that if you don't try." 

"I did try," Noct growls, feeling a spark of anger ignite. He went to Lestallum, to that first appointment, Ignis was right there beside him—how can he say that Noct hasn't tried? 

Ignis frowns, setting his own empty plate down. "Indeed, you went to one appointment, and that was a big step, one of which I'm very proud of. However, if you give up after one bad appointment, then you are not putting in any effort, you are simply looking for an excuse not to try." 

It stings. It feels as if Ignis is dismissing his effort, as if he's not appreciating how much it took of him to go to that appointment, or to even take the first step towards it. "That isn't true." 

Ignis crosses his arms over his chest, still frowning. "Then show me. Go to your appointment tomorrow." 

"No!" Noct snaps, surging up off the couch as his anger rises. He stalks over to Effy's tower, hoping to pet her and calm himself, but he finds her sleeping soundly, and he's reluctant to startle her for his own sake. "There's no point. It's not going to help." 

"You can't know that," Ignis argues, his voice raising with his frustration. "You haven't given it a real chance." 

"I went, didn't I?" Noctis says, his own voice raising as well. "That felt like a pretty big chance to me." 

"Do you sincerely believe that one appointment is enough to determine the worth of therapy for you?" Ignis asks. He sweeps his head around the room as he obviously tries to track Noct's pacing by the sound of his footfalls, and Noct knows how much Ignis hates not knowing his placement in the room, but he doesn't stop moving. "If you had faced Ardyn and lost, escaping with your life, would you have thrown your hands up in the air and said, 'Well, so much for Eos, there's no point in trying again, I won't win,' and left the world to its doom?" 

"That's different!" 

"Is it?" 

"If I'd lost, I would know there was still a chance to win next time. Losing the battle doesn't mean I've lost the war," Noct says around a sudden lump in his throat, recalling all the times his dad had said that phrase to him, both in literal reference to their never-ending war with Niflheim, and any time Noct had a frustrating setback with his recovery from the Marilith attack... 

Okay, so maybe he can see the point Ignis is trying to make, but it's not the same. This isn't a physical injury that will eventually heal with enough time and effort, this is something screwed up in his head, something that doesn't have an obvious fix, something he might never be able to overcome. And if he can't even handle one simple appointment without going into a panic attack, then he doesn't see any chance of getting better, doesn't see that going back has any point. "It's _different_ ," he insists. 

"How?" Ignis demands, his tone sharp enough to send another spike of anxiety lancing through Noct. Ignis is starting to get genuinely upset with him, and it scares him. Noct can probably count on one hand the times Ignis has been truly upset with him, and that includes the incident of a few weeks ago. "Please explain it to me, because I'm failing to understand." 

"It just is! You want me to be better, and I thought I could be, but I was wrong. It's not going to happen, and we should both just accept that." 

"I refuse." He practically hisses the words, shoulders rigid and hands clenching into a fist in his lap, and Noct swears he can see a flash of fierceness in Ignis' dead eye. "I won't accept it, because I won't let you give up without a proper fight." 

"You can't order me to go." Noct whirls around, away from Ignis, stalking once more towards the cat tower, really wishing Effy was awake, desperately needing the soothing motion of petting her soft fur. He's starting to feel overwhelmed with all the fear and anger he's feeling—he and Ignis have so rarely truly argued like this, and never before as a couple, and there's still that lurking fear of Ignis making therapy an ultimatum for their relationship—he doesn't want to disconnect from the world right now, doesn't want to dissolve into a trembling mess of panic... "You're not my parent," he says then, trying to focus only on the anger and shove everything else down. At least anger helps keep him present in the world. 

"You need help!" Ignis yells—actually _yells_ , and the harshness of his tone makes Noct flinch. "I simply cannot continue to watch you go on like this, Noct. I won't do it any longer." 

"Now who's giving up?" Noct spits out, but there's more of a tremble to the words than he'd like. "If I've become such a burden to you—" 

"That is not at all what I meant—" 

"—then you can quit worrying. I'll go and you can stop concerning yourself with me. I'm not going to be your problem _any longer_." The last words are a snarl dripping with vitriol, but his eyes are wide and his breathing harsh. His heart's pounding loud against his ribcage, an accompaniment to the blood rushing through his ears, and his head's foggy, too many emotions suddenly drumming against his skull, making his head ache with them. The room's closing in on him suddenly, and he's got to get out. 

He spins around, stumbling to the door and fumbling with the knob for a moment before yanking it open. Behind him, Ignis is rising from the couch, alarm obvious as he calls Noct's name, but Noct ignores him, stepping from the room and making sure to slam the door closed. 

He doesn't have any clear destination in mind, but it's not long before finds himself outside the palace walls, the Citadel a growing dot in the distance as he keeps hurrying further along. His thoughts are a tumultuous, tumbling turmoil in his brain. Ignis doesn't think he's trying, and that hurts. But it hurts even more to realise that some of his biggest fears have finally come true—that Ignis has at last grown tired of him, of dealing with all his issues and how screwed up he is, that he's ready to finally wash his hands of Noct. 

It occurs to him then that maybe Ignis isn't pushing therapy as hard as he is for Noct's sake, but for his _own_. So that Noct can finally be somebody else's problem. 

The thought's enough to push the hurt to the side and let the anger take forefront again. He winds through the streets of Insomnia, paying little attention to his surroundings, his mind focused on Ignis and their argument. Ignis had said he loved Noct, but how could he say that— _feel_ that—about someone he claims to love? And Ignis has been suggesting the idea of therapy ever since that first terrible trip to Lestallum, way back in late June, five and a half months ago. Has Ignis—all that time— 

Nausea coils up tight in his gut. He thinks—hopes— _wants_ to be wrong. Ignis has always been so patient with him, calming and comforting him, being there for him no matter when or where or why... But he can't imagine Ignis faking that for so long. Ever, really, but clearly at some point he'd become tired of Noct and hidden it, too cowardly to come out and admit it without being provoked— 

A loud growl sounds in front of him, breaking him from his thoughts. He looks up to see a pack of sabertusks skulking a short distance away. They've never looked a picture of health to him, but this pack in particular looks even more mangy and underfed than usual. They're not making a move to attack him, merely watching warily, and Noct suspects they're too weak to do much more than defend their territory. 

It would be simple enough to just ignore them and go on his way, but seeing them incites even more anger in him. They've infiltrated his city, killed one of his citizens, threatened countless others, given him an ugly new scar on his arm— 

He summons up the fire easily, effortlessly, hurling it right into the centre of the beasts before they even have time to register it, much less attack. They scatter in every direction, their pained yelps echoing around the otherwise deserted street. He watches grimly, taking dark satisfaction in seeing them burn. Another thought, and more fire explodes out from his hands, engulfing the hapless creatures and reducing them to bones and ashes in a matter of seconds. 

Noct's never attempted to help clear out any of the sabertusks himself. It would be nothing to, he knows—several fire spells would make a nice dent in their population. But he hasn't tried, or even used his magic much since those first days of returning to Insomnia and clearing away rubble from Niflheim's betrayal. There's just been too much going on, too much in his head, too many times slipping into the past from one instant to the next, and he doesn't trust himself to use magic. And he's still worried the Astrals will turn on him one day, punish him for surviving, for taking parts of them into himself, making him bitter and resentful until he's no better than Ardyn. 

But standing here and killing the sabertusks now... he finds he doesn't care so much about those concerns. Everything fades away except for the anger—and not just the anger at Ignis, but at the world, at the Astrals and their stupid prophecies, at the Crystal, at Niflheim, at how _unfair_ everything is, how it's all led him to these last months of being so broken and messed up that he can't even look at his own damn reflection in the mirror without falling apart, can't spend a single waking moment without yearning desperately for those ten lost years, can't just be _happy_ instead of constantly wanting to die— 

He storms through the streets, through abandoned, ruined neighbourhoods that were close enough to be hit by the attack but far away enough that people have yet to return, and through medians littered with dead trees and empty cars, until he comes upon a second pack of beasts holed up in a busted out corner of what was once a Bank of Spira. He incinerates them before they're even aware of his presence, kicking at the ashes left before he leaves to go find more. 

Several more packs, and it feels so good to be the one destroying for once. He channels all his anger into his magic, letting it burst forth from him unchecked, decimating any sabertusks he runs across, exhilarated adrenaline rushing through him. He finds a small number of them lurking around the interior of an old diner, and sets them ablaze, moving out of the way as they run around in a fiery panic, whining pitifully from the pain. 

A snarl from behind startles him, and he whirls just in time for a sabertusk to lunge and sink its teeth into his left leg, ripping his jeans and tearing his skin wide open. Noct's too keyed up for it to hurt, but he growls in annoyance, summoning a sword from his Armiger and stabbing it into the miserable beast's skull. "Take that, you piece of shit," he mutters. It snarls again, digging in deeper, and Noct kicks at its head with his other leg until it lets go, backing away in a daze. He vanishes his sword and tosses some fire at it before turning to leave, ignoring the blood dripping down his leg. 

It's growing dark by the time he stops, slumping down on the sidewalk in exhaustion and slowly pulling his phone from his pocket. His anger's run out, replaced with sadness, and he's lost his taste for killing any more sabertusks at the moment. His leg that got bit earlier is also throbbing, the pain that was held at bay now impossible to ignore. He feels a twinge of guilt when he unlocks his phone and sees how many missed calls and texts there are from Ignis, and some from Gladio and Prompto too. No matter what Ignis might feel about him, how sick he is of Noct's issue, he knows Ignis is still going to worry about his wellbeing. And Prompto and Gladio, they'll be worried too. He should at least text one of them back, let them know he's fine, but he's hurt enough still to take some cruel satisfaction in making Ignis worry. 

He shoves his phone back into his pocket, leaving the texts unread, and takes a moment to look at his surroundings and figure out just where he is. The neighbourhood's intact, telling him he's pretty far out from the Citadel, and he has a nagging feeling of familiarity as he gazes around at the houses near him. 

After another long moment of staring, it hits him. He's in Prompto's neighbourhood. His best friend's house is further down, near the end of the street. He hasn't been to the house since he was eighteen, about three— _thirteen_ —years ago, but he must have headed in this direction subconsciously. He'd always come to Prompto's after his few real arguments with Ignis, needing to calm down and relax, and his best friend was always great at getting him to do just that. Even though Prompto obviously doesn't live here anymore, his body has apparently remembered the old routine and acted accordingly. 

Sighing, Noct climbs to his feet, grimacing as his hurt leg protests the motions. He stands there indecisively for a moment before turning in the direction of Prompto's old house. He doesn't feel up to going back to the Citadel, having to make his way in the dark and keep an eye out for daemons—no, _sabertusks_ , his brain's trying to slip into the past but he's not going to let it—and he definitely isn't up to facing Ignis and resuming their earlier argument, or facing Gladio and Prompto and explaining things to them. 

It takes him longer than he'd like to reach the house, and his leg's burning hotly by the time he drags himself up to the porch. Thankfully the door's unlocked, and the house seems to still be in decent enough shape. He makes his first stop the bathroom, gathering up whatever first aid supplies he can find, along with a bottle of expired painkillers that he figures are better than nothing. 

Popping two, he eases his jeans off and takes a look at the wound. Though it hurts considerably, it doesn't look as bad as he'd feared. There are holes from the teeth, little trenches gouged into his skin where the beast had held on and yanked, but there's nothing gaping open or exposed like the bite on his arm had been, so he's not too worried about it. He turns the tub on, letting the rusty water run out first, and then sets about cleaning and bandaging the wound as best he can, gritting his teeth against the pain. 

That done, he limps to the kitchen. Hunger is making itself known, his stomach growling uncomfortably, and he rummages through the cabinets, hoping there's something still edible to be found within. He comes up with rice, canned vegetables, and sugar a few minutes later. The vegetables are expired, but a quick online search with his phone suggests the rice is safe enough. 

It takes another search to figure out how to make it, and he burns some of it, the rice a sticky black mess clinging to the bottom of the pan, but there's enough left to fill a bowl. He wanders through the house as he eats, going from room to room, looking at everything and wondering if Prompto ever learned what happened to his parents, if they're still alive somewhere. There's nothing in the house hinting to their whereabouts, if they'd fled during the attack and been killed, or if they'd already left the city for work by the time the fighting broke out and were able to survive. 

Eventually he heads up the stairs to his best friend's room, looking at all the things Prompto had left behind. Like Noct, he'd left with the expectation of being back a week later, having no idea of the events fate had had in store for them. His bed's made neatly, with a once freshly washed blanket folded at the end of it. There's a basket of clean laundry on the floor in the open closet, waiting to be hung up. His mp3 player is still on the charger on his desk, in preparation for the return that never came. It all makes Noct's heart clench with grief, and he swallows hard, turning his attention to the photos that Prompto has pinned up on the wall above his desk. It's mostly pictures of the two of them, but there are some that have Ignis and Gladio, and a few that Noct knows are Prompto's parents, though he's never met them. 

Seeing all of them up there, unaware of the pain and heartbreak soon to come makes his heart ache even more, but he can't stop staring at the pictures of himself from the last few months before they set off for Galdin Quay. For him, those pictures were only taken at the beginning of the year, and he can still remember them in his mind so clearly. He sees himself as he still wants to look, _believes_ himself to look, and he hates it. But seeing the photos beginning to yellow with age is a testament to how long they've been on the wall, proof that he's aged, that these pictures were taken long before the start of the year, and he hates that too. 

Sighing, Noct closes his eyes against the sight of them for a moment, and then turns away, setting his empty bowl down on Prompto's nightstand before curling up on the bed to sleep. 

* * *

His phone won't stop ringing. Noct whimpers, burying his head under Prompto's pillow. He's tired still, and just wants to sleep some more, but almost as soon as the phone stops, it starts right back up again, and even if he turns the phone off he knows the guilt will keep him awake. 

Groaning, he pulls it from his pocket, uncovering his head and squinting at the display blearily, expecting to see Ignis' name across the top. Instead it's Gladio's, and after the fourth straight call Noct lets out another groan and answers it. "What," he grumbles, making a face at how gravelly the word comes out. He clears his throat and tries again. "I'm fine," he says, wanting to get that in preemptively. 

"Where the hell are you, Noct?" Gladio growls. "Do you know how upset you've made Ignis? He's been up all night worried sick that you were hurt somewhere. You couldn't have called one of us back?" 

Noct yawns, turning the phone to speaker and setting it down atop his chest. "I'm fine," he repeats, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. "I'm at Prompto's." 

"Cut the bullshit. Prompto's here with me and Iggy, and just as worried." 

"No," he says around a second yawn, trying to ignore the twinge of guilt. "Not his room in the Citadel, _Prompto's_." He could easily just say Prompto's old house, he knows, but he's annoyed at being woken and wants to be a little difficult. 

There's a moment of confused silence, and then Gladio barks out, "What the hell are you doing way out there?" 

"Dunno," he says, and feels another twinge of guilt at the exasperated sigh Gladio makes. 

"Okay, just... stay put," Gladio says, his words overly clear and deliberate. He's obviously trying to stay calm, and Noct figures he should probably start cooperating. "I'll come get you." 

"Okay," he agrees, and ends the call. He lies there another moment before sitting up and pocketing his phone. His leg's hurting something fierce again, and he could probably do with a new bandage and some more painkillers. He stands, and before he leaves the room, he goes back over to the pictures, carefully pulling one down. It's one of him and Ignis together in Noct's apartment. Noct's in his school uniform, and they're together on his couch, the sun shining in behind them. Noct's laying down, his head in Ignis' lap, a game controller held in his hands. Ignis is smiling down at him, and Noct's grinning back, cheeks flush with happiness. He doesn't remember it ever being taken, but he'd seen it last night amongst all the rest. He looks at it a moment, wondering if they can ever find that sort of happiness again, and then dismisses it to the Armiger as he heads downstairs to the bathroom. 

He takes another couple of painkillers as he settles himself down onto the closed toilet, wincing as he looks at his leg. It looks swollen, his jeans tight around it, and he thinks that even if he could get them off, he'd never get them back on. He'd rather not meet Gladio in his underwear, so he rummages around the supplies until he finds a pair of scissors, and then begins the careful task of cutting his jeans off at the knee. 

When he finally gets it off, he curses. "Dammit." The wound's radiating heat, and as he unwraps the bandages slowly he winces again to see how red and inflamed it is. No wonder it's hurting so much. "Infection," he mutters to himself. "Great." It's not really surprising though, given that he'd left it untreated for four or five hours while he'd wandered around burning sabertusks in a fit of rage. Sighing, Noct reluctantly reaches to turn on the water, knowing that cleaning it out is going to hurt like a bitch. 

He hears Gladio show up while he's giving his leg one last rinse, calling out Noct's name as he comes in the house. "In here," Noct says when he manages to unclench his teeth. He takes a couple of deep breaths, shutting off the water. His leg's burning, and he desperately misses being able to just pop a potion and have his wounds healed. 

Gladio's large frame fills the doorway moments later, and Noct glances up at him long enough to see his eyes darken as he spots the wound. "Sabertusk?" he asks as he drops down to the edge of the tub next to Noct. 

"Yeah." 

"Bite or claw?" 

"Bite." 

Gladio sighs, looking closer at it, and then reaches out with a hand, gently feeling the heated skin near it. "It's infected." 

"Yep," Noct agrees, gritting his teeth again as he pats his leg dry. 

Gladio leans forward to snag the first aid supplies Noct's left out, digging through for the gauze. "You're going to be the death of us, kid." 

"Not a kid anymore," Noct says, just to be contrary, though Gladio's been calling him that for years, long since he stopped actually being a kid. He stays quiet as Gladio begins to bandage his leg, taking care not to hurt him. Noct could easily do it himself still, but he knows his Shield's going to be feeling guilty that Noct got hurt and he wasn't there yet again, so if this lessens that, Noct's content to leave him to it. 

"That good?" Gladio asks as he finishes off the wrap with a piece of tape, then tosses the unused gauze back in the box. "Not too tight?" 

Shaking his head, Noct stands carefully. "It's fine." They head out to Prompto's truck, and Noct climbs into the cab as Gladio slides into the driver's seat. He expects Gladio to grill him about his disappearing act, but Gladio says nothing during their ride home. "Did anyone feed Effy?" Noct asks after they've ridden in silence for some time. 

"Iggy did." 

Noct nods in acknowledgement, and they fall quiet again. 

Prompto and Ignis are both waiting in the lobby for them when they arrive, and Prompto lets out a distressed noise when he catches sight of Noct's bandaged leg. "Noct, you're injured! What happened?" 

"Just a sabertusk bite," he mutters. "No big deal." 

"Yes big deal," Gladio says. "It's infected. You're going to the med wing to get it looked at and get some antibiotics." 

Noct knows better than to protest. He follows them over there as Prompto chatters on about being relieved Noct's okay, and takes the antibiotics and painkillers he's given obediently. Prompto leaves after his wound is re-bandaged, but Gladio escorts him back to his room, Ignis following along. He lets Gladio get him a pair of sweatpants and then set him up in the bed before his Shield takes his leave, and then it's just him and Ignis. 

They're silent at first, and it's awkward. Noct doesn't want him here at the moment. Seeing him in the lobby had brought all of his feelings from their argument rushing back, leaving him sullen and upset, and he's not in the mood to talk about things, which is exactly what Ignis is going to want. 

"How's the leg?" Ignis asks, coming over to sit on the other side of his bed. 

"Hurts." 

More awkward silence, and Noct waits for the lecture he knows is coming. Sure enough, it only takes another minute or two before Ignis starts in. "Do you realise how worried you had me? Why did you not answer any of our calls, or texts, or simply let one of us know you were safe?" 

"Didn't feel like it." 

"Didn't—Noct, I thought you were dead." 

"What?" Noct looks over to Ignis at that, wondering how he could have possibly come to that conclusion. "Why would you think that?" 

"I do wonder," Ignis says, his voice dripping angry sarcasm. "After all, you were only saying you wouldn't be my problem anymore, and surely you were merely joking when you admitted to still wanting to die a month ago, certainly that's no reason for me to believe you ran off to attempt suicide a second time." 

A sick guilt settles in his stomach at that; he'd wanted Ignis to worry, but he hadn't thought Ignis would think he'd gone off to kill himself. He doesn't want to feel guilty though, he wants to be angry and hurt still. Ignis thinks his effort was nothing, is tired of helping him, wants to give up on him. "Maybe I should have," he mumbles. "It's not like you'd care that much." 

Next to him, Ignis sucks in a quick breath. "How dare you even suggest such a thing." The words are sharp, and tight, and they make the sick feeling in Noct's stomach even heavier, but he shoves it aside, clinging instead to the anger. 

"How dare I?" he demands, wishing Ignis had his sight so he could appreciate the full force of Noct's glare. "You're tired of me. You want to shove me off on somebody else so I don't have to be your problem anymore! Your life would be easier without me in it!" 

An eternal second of silence that stretches on past forever, and then Ignis speaks again, his voice trembling. "I have spent the last ten years of my life without you in it, Noct. I can assure you, it was certainly not _easier_." He pauses, swallowing hard. "I could never grow tired of you. You are not, and have never been, a burden to me." 

He doesn't know why that hurts him so much, why hearing those words makes him feel like utter shit, but his desire to not be alive suddenly comes back harder than ever, and he finds that he needs Ignis to leave, _now_ , before he bursts into tears and completely humiliates himself. "Get out," he says quietly. 

"Noct, we need to talk about this, don't—" 

"Get out!" he shouts, slamming a fist down into his bed. "Just go away!" 

Ignis slips off the bed reluctantly and begins to leave, but hesitates in the doorway. "I'm worried you'll hurt yourself," he says softly. 

Noct closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, trying to keep himself together. "I won't," he says. "Just leave me alone." 

"Very well," Ignis says, and shuts the door behind him. 

Noct punches the bed again after he's gone, torn between the urge to scream and the urge to cry. He manages not to do either, but the emotions are churning inside him and he can't stand it. He needs to do something, needs to find a way to let them out, but screams will just bring people running and he's so tired of crying all the time... 

A tiny jingle alerts him to Effy's presence, and soon she's jumping on the bed beside him, nudging his hand with her head. He automatically begins petting her, scratching gently behind her ears, and it certainly makes her happy if her soft purring is anything to go by, but it doesn't quite have the calming effect on him he's hoping for. 

Briefly he entertains the idea of asking Gladio to spar with him, but though Gladio hadn't _seemed_ too mad when he'd picked him up from Prompto's, deep down Noct's still afraid that Gladio's going to explode with anger at some point—with everything Noct's been putting his friends through, his Shield definitely has enough reason to be angry with him. And though he'd been calm at the house and here at the Citadel, he _had_ been irritated on the phone. 

So sparring is out. But the idea of fighting is appealing, and that leaves only one other option. Ignis will kill him, but Noct doesn't particularly care. Ignis is confusing him and he doesn't like it. Let Ignis worry a little more. 

He sticks closer to the neighbourhoods surrounding the Citadel this time, to areas that are patrolled by the Crownsguard—though infrequently—and doesn't let himself get carried away with his magic or his emotions. It's not as satisfying, because there aren't as many groups of sabertusks to fight thanks to the Crownsguards' efforts, but he persists anyway. 

A couple hours later, his phone chimes with a text. He's half-tempted to ignore it, but fear makes him pull it out and read it. He doesn't want to push his friends so far that they all wash his hands of him, doesn't want to push Ignis far enough to break up with him and abandon him. 

_Please tell me you're still in the Citadel somewhere._ It's Ignis, of course. 

_Nope_ , Noct sends back, and waits for the upset reply he's bound to get, but it doesn't come. The spark of fear in him ignites, trying to charge up into panic, but he does his best to put it out, determined to still be mad instead. Somehow it's just easier to be mad. 

Just as he sets off to wander the streets some more, his phone goes off again. This time, however, it's from Prompto. _why r u acting like this._

_Like what?_

_like a rebellious teenager instead of a grown adult_ , comes the reply, and Noct glares at his phone, temper spiking. He can't believe Prompto's betraying him this way too—they all know by now he's had problems remembering when he is, and how old he is, and how much it upsets him. It's a low blow for Prompto to use that against him now, and Noct doesn't bother with a response to him. 

Shoving his phone back in his pocket, he stalks off, still fuming. So what if he's acting like a teenager? He doesn't care what year it really is, how long it's been—he _feels_ twenty-one and that's what matters most to him. Everyone looks to him and expects him to act as if he's thirty-one and experienced at life by now, but in his mind he's barely an adult; he has no idea what he's doing half the time. 

And maybe it's not fair to expect Prompto to understand the depth of it when Noct's never really talked with him about it, but Prompto's seen him get lost in time, has seen him struggle with lack of experience in his relationship with Ignis—he's smart enough to fill in the blanks and understand how much his words would hurt Noct. 

He doesn't realise he's stopped paying attention to his surroundings until a harsh growl sounds from off to his side, and that's all the warning he gets as he finds himself suddenly being rushed. The sabertusk is upon him before he can think fast enough to react, knocking him to the ground as it pins him, drool getting everywhere as it snaps at him. The smell of it is rotten, making him gag, and without thinking he throws up his arm as a blockade against it. The creature lunges immediately, its teeth sinking into the soft flesh of his arm and dragging down through the marred skin of his new scar. 

Noct cries out, shaking his arm uselessly in panic for a moment before rational thought kicks back in, and then he summons up a dagger from the Armiger, driving it deep into the beast. It whines loudly, letting go of his arm, and it's enough for Noct to find leverage and shove the foul thing off him. He gets to his feet as it finds its own footing, retreating some and eyeing him warily. 

Noct doesn't waste any time looking for an opening. He dismisses the dagger, calling upon some fire in the next instant, slinging it in the sabertusk's direction. It yelps as the magic lands, turning to run, but doesn't get far as the fire quickly consumes it, burning fast, and it's not long before it's nothing more than a black stain upon the sidewalk. 

Once it's gone he slumps to the ground, needing a moment to catch his breath. His arm's aching too, and he looks at the newest wound with a sigh, sick of the stupid beasts biting and clawing him. 

"Noctis, we heard your cry. Is everything alright?" 

Noct looks up at Cor's rapid approach, holding up a hand in a brief greeting to both him and the other Crownsguard accompanying him. "Just a stray sabertusk," he says. "I'm fine." 

They stop in front of him, Cor frowning as he catches sight of Noct's injury. "Let us escort you back to the Citadel," he says. 

"I'm fine." 

"You're injured." 

"I've had worse." 

Cor crosses his arms, glaring down at Noct, but Noct just glares back up at him, refusing to be intimidated. Finally Cor lets out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head as he settles next to Noct on the sidewalk. He dismisses the other Crownsguard with a wave of his hand, sending her back on patrol. 

They're quiet for a moment, Cor studying Noct with solemn eyes that make Noct feel uncomfortable. "What," he finally snaps out. 

"Something's troubling you," Cor states. 

Noct considers making a snarky remark about stating the obvious, but Cor hasn't really done anything to earn his ire. And, if he's honest with himself, he still finds the man a little too intimidating to be disrespectful to him. He stays silent instead. 

"The others were worried when you didn't show up last night," Cor prods. "Ignis considered having the Crownsguard launch a full-scale search for you." 

"Why didn't he?" 

"Gladio wanted to keep from inciting a panic within the city." 

Noct falls silent again, considering that. Once again he's being presented with evidence that Ignis was a lot more worried about him than Noct had expected, and he doesn't know what to think anymore. If Ignis was truly so tired of him, then wouldn't he not care so much if Noct disappeared for a few days? Shouldn't he be _glad_ for the break from Noct and all his problems? But instead Ignis had been scared for him, seemingly frantic to find him and make sure he wasn't hurt or dead by his own hand. 

And he's not angry enough to believe that Ignis doesn't care at all. Ignis loves him, he knows that, and Ignis is going to worry about him, he knows that too. In fact, Noct had _wanted_ him to worry. But he had thought that some part of Ignis would be privately relieved at the time apart, at not having to put up with Noct's dumb issues, and it leaves him at a loss to realise that's not the case. If Ignis isn't tired of him, and doesn't want to push him off to be someone else's problem, then why is he so upset that Noct isn't going back to therapy? Why does he refuse to accept Noct's word that it isn't going to work? 

"I'm a good listener," Cor offers, breaking into Noct's thoughts. 

Noct sighs. The thought of talking to Cor about any of it feels weird, but he's too conflicted to sort it out alone and his friends are annoyed with him; what does he have to lose? "I don't know what's wrong with me," he says, and hates that admitting it makes him want to cry, suddenly. 

"There's nothing wrong with you," Cor says. "Noctis, you've been through several traumatic events, and I'm given to understand that they _all_ still feel recent to you. Anyone in your position would have difficulty coping with them. What you are dealing with now is normal. I would honestly be more concerned if you weren't having difficulties." 

He has to swallow hard at that, blinking back tears. Though he's not sure how much he believes Cor's words, it feels surprisingly good to hear someone say that all of his problems are normal, perhaps even _expected_. "I don't think Ignis would agree with you," he mutters. 

"And why do you think that?" 

"We had a fight." He pauses, expecting a response, but Cor says nothing, so Noct continues on. "He wants me to go to therapy." Still nothing, and the silence makes Noct uncomfortable, so he fills it. "I did try. I went, to the first one. It didn't... didn't go well. I don't see the point in going back. He said I'm not putting in effort. That I'm looking for an excuse to give up and not try. I think he just wants me to go and be somebody else's problem." Now he's said more than he meant to, and that makes him more uncomfortable than the silence did. 

Cor lets the silence linger for an instant, and then glances at him, raising an eyebrow. "If you truly believe that, then you don't know your boyfriend very well." 

Face heating up, Noct tries not to cringe too obviously. He hadn't realised Cor was aware of their changed relationship. And it feels awkward to hear Cor use the word boyfriend—he's always seemed too no-nonsense for things like that, though Noct realises how silly that is now that he's grown. 

But more than any of that, it's embarrassing to have Cor call him out. "I tried," he says, feeling a little pathetic. 

"Once? Do you think Insomnia would be here for you to rule now if its past leaders had given up after the first loss in battle with Niflheim?" 

Noct groans. "Ignis used a battle comparison too. But this is different." 

"It isn't," Cor says. "Mental health is a series of battles. Some of them you'll win, others you'll lose. The losses are hard, because you're fighting something you once thought you could trust. And it'll use whatever tools it can find in its arsenal to make winning as difficult as possible for you. But as long as you don't give up, eventually you will have enough wins for it to wave a white flag. And only then it will work with you towards an acceptable peace. If you give up after one setback, you'll never reach that point." 

The tears return, and Noct doesn't bother to fight them this time, letting a few slip wetly down his cheeks. "What if I'm not strong enough to reach that point?" 

"You won't know unless you try," Cor says quietly. "And unlike a real battle, you can try as many times as it takes to win." 

Noct takes a breath. "How can you be sure?" 

"I've fought my fair share of battles." 

"I didn't know." He wipes at his face and then looks down at the sidewalk, watching as a small beetle climbs its way across his shoe. "Does it get easier?" 

Cor claps a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently for a moment before releasing it. "Eventually. If you're willing to put in the effort." 

"Ignis must hate me." 

"He's worried for you. And scared. He doesn't want to lose you again." 

Noct sighs, following the beetle with his eyes as it starts the uphill climb over its second shoe. It loses its footing once, but goes right back to climbing. He has to admire its perseverance. "I've been a dick to him. To all of them." 

Cor smiles, a rare sight. "Apologies work wonders." He gets to his feet, stretching, and looks down at Noct. "We should get you to the Citadel. That wound needs treating." 

He's forgotten about the bite. The pain had faded while they'd talked. But he allows himself to be escorted now back to the palace, to the med wing where the doctor on duty looks to his latest bite with a sigh, and begins patching him up. Cor leaves him with a nod, heading back to his patrol, and Noct lets his thoughts turn to Ignis while the doctor cleans out his wound. 

He's still not entirely sure that therapy will help, if he can't manage to talk without a panic attack. But he knows Cor is right, and Ignis too—he needs to try, more than once. He's afraid of failure, afraid that he won't be able to get better, and if he doesn't keep trying, then he doesn't have to keep failing. But... he wants to be better. He doesn't want to be a burden to Ignis. Ignis shouldn't have to worry about him all the time. 

He'd thought Ignis was giving up on him, but he'd had it all wrong. Even as Noct was giving up on himself, Ignis was doing his best to refuse to let him. Noct had just been too scared to acknowledge it. He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling terrible. Astrals, he really has been a major dick. 

"All done," the doctor says as she tapes off the bandage. "Please don't let me see you in here a third time today." 

Noct offers her an apologetic smile. "No promises." 

Once he leaves the med wing—after sitting through a second lecture on wound care and dealing with infections—he goes to his room, pulling off his shoes and curling up on his bed. He's barely settled when Effy runs over, cuddling against him. He smiles, and begins gently petting her for awhile, a silent apology for neglecting her and leaving her alone all night. The motion is relaxing, her loud purr comforting, and though he'd intended to text Gladio and Prompto to start with his apologies, he realises that's going to have to wait. The past couple of days are catching up with him, exhaustion fast stealing over him as he lets go of all the emotions he's been holding onto. 

Before he slips into sleep, he reaches into the Armiger, pulling out the picture of him and Ignis he'd taken from Prompto's house. He looks at it again, at the two of them smiling at each other, unguarded and happy in their affection, with so many less troubles to worry about, and then sets it beside him on the nightstand as he closes his eyes. He's decided. They're going to have that again eventually. No matter what it takes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much pain and whump :D
> 
> Thanks and love to anyone who's still sticking with me through this, and to anyone new just discovering this fic. It was my guilt for leaving you all hanging that pushed me to make this my nano and actually start writing on it again haha. As always, feel free to let me know what you think, I appreciate you guys so much ♥
> 
> This chapter now has an accompanying side scene [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17033568/chapters/41245112).


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I extended the chapter count again. I realise this is the third time I've done this. I'm sorry xD Sometimes this fic gets away from me. But hey, only ten days between updates this time! Progress!
> 
> Also I want to thank Alyssa for helping me decide whether Noct would say sheesh or jeez XD

Morning comes, and with it comes the pain. It throbs insistently, waking Noct from dreams that for once weren't nightmares, and he groans quietly, blinking sticky eyes open. He's greeted by the sight of Ignis and himself, the picture he'd set on the nightstand, and that brings back guilt alongside the pain. He's gotta apologise to Ignis today, and to his friends.

He gets out of bed, careful to maneuver around a sleeping Effy, and grabs his painkillers and antibiotics off his dresser, swallowing the required amount down with a glass of water from the bathroom tap. He decides to shower while waiting on them to kick in, hoping the warm water will at least soothe his aching muscles even if it can't do much for his bite wounds. 

He dresses in loose, casual clothing once he's out and dry, not wanting to try and fight with tight jeans around his still slightly swollen leg. That done, he retrieves his phone from the bed, reluctantly pulling up the messaging app. He stares at Ignis' name for several long moments, before pulling up Prompto's instead. He wants to apologise to Ignis, and he will, just... not yet. 

Prompto accepts his apology easily, which gives Noct the confidence to text Gladio. His Shield gives him a brief lecture about his behaviour, but in the end, he too forgives Noct. That done, Noct pulls up Ignis' name. He scrolls through some of the messages Ignis had sent him while he was 'missing,' wincing as the typos become more numerous and the tone more desperate as Ignis gives in to his worry. He clearly owes Ignis more than a quick 'sorry' through a text message. 

Sighing, Noct closes the app without sending a message, and pockets his phone. The guilt's running rampant through him again after Gladio's lecture, and he suddenly feels the need to get away from Insomnia. Not running away, not leaving everyone worrying about him again... he just needs a break. Some time away from life and reality to relax and forget for awhile about his city and its citizens, the kingdom and his duty to it, his _friends_ , his _relationship_ —everything he's failed at since defeating Ardyn and returning home. 

He dries his hair while he considers where to go. He doesn't want to go far, certainly not to Lestallum which has the potential to so easily upset him, and there's not really anything for him to do in Hammerhead. He doesn't really want to be around people anyway. People pick up on things, they worry about him, they try to make him talk... he'd rather go and sit out in nature somewhere and forget that anyone else exists. 

That gives him an idea, and as soon as he's done with his hair he heads down to the kitchens, slipping inside and grabbing the attention of a passing cook. 

"Uh... Excuse me. Could you make me a couple of sandwiches?" Noct feels a little silly requesting for something he could easily make himself, but the cooks are in the middle of preparing breakfast and he doesn't want to get in their way by taking up space or trying to find where everything's located. 

"What sort of sandwiches, Your Majesty?" 

"Um. Ham. With Swiss." He answers with the first thing that comes to mind. He doesn't care at all what kind they are, but years of requesting things of the palace staff has taught him they don't like ambiguous requests, that it makes them panic over getting something 'wrong' even when he doesn't care about the specifics. 

"Certainly, Your Majesty." 

"Thanks." The title still makes him uncomfortable, but he knows there's no point in trying to dissuade the man. 

Half an hour later, he's got everything he needs stored in the Armiger and a car waiting for him out front. He makes a quick stop to his room to scoop up Effy, who protests the carrier she's placed into with an ear-splitting yowl. "Sorry baby," he murmurs to her. 

He spends the entire drive attempting to soothe her, his heart breaking with every distressed cry. The guard at the city checkpoint gives his ID a thorough glance before handing it back. "Safe trip, Your Majesty." 

"Thanks." He drives ahead, soon pulling off onto the familiar and well-worn dirt road, parking the car. He sits there for a moment, lost in memories. It's hard for him to _not_ think about the last two times he'd come this way. The first had been when Insomnia had fallen to Niflheim. The second, the last hours before he'd faced Ardyn. Noct hadn't know what to expect either time, and had approached the hill overlooking the city with great fear and trepidation. 

This time, however, he's not going to the hill. Instead he grabs Effy's carrier and takes the opposite path, down towards the reservoir. It's slow going with his injured leg, but the painkillers are still doing their job for the moment. He doesn't stop at the pier when he gets there; instead, he carefully makes his way across the pipes on the left, over to the bank, heading right a little ways until he comes to a small grassy area. 

Only then does he set Effy's carrier down, opening the door to let her out. She comes out cautiously, looking around and sniffing in several places before deeming it safe to run around. He's a little anxious about letting her run free, but the area they're in is small, enclosed in by walls and fences and water, and there isn't anywhere for her to truly run off to. 

He sends a text to both Gladio and Prompto, letting them know exactly where he is, asking them to tell Ignis as well. It's not the full apology Noct owes, and it's a little cowardly to not do it himself, but hopefully Ignis will see it as the start of the apology he intends. 

He pulls a camping chair and his fishing gear out of the Armiger, and soon he's casting a line. It's awkward having to use his left hand, since the right one's all wrapped in bandages, but he manages, and some of his tension fades away as he relaxes on the shore, absently watching Effy explore and keeping alert to any tugs on the line. The day's nice, scattered clouds dotting the bright blue sky, the sun's warm rays piercing through them and heating up the cold December air some. It's a good day to be out. 

It doesn't take long for his mind to start wandering, thoughts turning to the apology he's going to have to give. He's at a loss on what to say, and he's dreading it. He knows more than a simple sorry is warranted, but he doesn't know _how much_ more is needed. 

He knows he can't just say sorry and leave it at that, as tempting as that is. He'd been a dick, lying to Ignis about the therapy appointment—even just by omission—and storming off and making Ignis worry that he'd hurt himself, and he'd done those things _deliberately_. Perhaps he hadn't expected Ignis to think he'd gone off and killed himself, but he'd at least known Ignis would worry for his well-being. So Ignis deserves for Noct to acknowledge how wrong he was. 

But how to say it? The obvious answer would be to say just that— _I'm sorry for lying and making you worry_. But it still sounds too simple, as if he's not grasping the impact of how much his behaviour hurt and scared Ignis, as if he's not appreciating the gravity of what he'd done. Gladio had made it clear in his earlier morning lecture just how upset Ignis had been, and Noct had never meant to cause him all of that pain. 

But he's so terrible with emotions. He doesn't know how to express them well, even when he has the right words, and it makes him uncomfortable to try. Just thinking about saying something like ' _I'm sorry I caused you so much fear and worry that I was hurt or dying, I never wanted to hurt you like that, please forgive me_ ' makes him squirm in his chair. That's just not him. And he's a little worn out on heartfelt conversations; he's had way too many over the past months. 

A tug on his line catches his attention, and he abandons his thoughts momentarily to slowly reel in the fish he's hooked. It's not long before he's got it on shore, freeing the lure from its mouth. It's a decent size, good for eating, a Lucian catfish, though he snickers to think that Prompto would call it a 'lakefish' if he were here. It's a ridiculous term that came about from the first time his best friend had accompanied him on a fishing trip. 

"What are you catching?" Prompto had asked him, and being his usual reticent self, Noct had simply responded with "fish." Prompto had rolled his eyes, saying duh, and their friendship had still been new enough that Noct was secretly thrilled with how comfortable Prompto felt in being so casual with him. 

"What kind of fish?" Prompto had asked then. "Bass, catfish, uh... lake...fish?" 

"Lakefish?" Noct had snorted, turning towards his friend with raised brows. Prompto had grinned and shrugged, shoving playfully at him just as a fish had tugged on his line, making Noct lose it, and in the ensuing argument he'd forgotten about the silly term Prompto had used. But the next time Noct had dared to bring him on a fishing trip, Prompto had brought up the term again with another bright grin, and Noct had shaken his head and gone with it. After that it had quickly become an inside joke between them. 

Smiling to himself, he secures the catfish on his stringer, then recasts his line before checking on Effy. She's a little further down the shore, pouncing on something she's found in the dirt, and seems happy enough. He'd worried that it would be too cold for her; it's unusually warm for mid-December, but there's still a chill to the air that has him keeping his coat on. She's not shivering or trying to curl up in his lap, however, so she must be warm enough. And with the sun out, he knows that helps too. 

Satisfied that his kitten is fine, he lets his attention drift again. He's a little surprised that Ignis hasn't texted him, even just to make sure he's okay. But maybe Ignis is still angry with him. Too angry to talk to him unless Noct makes the first move. If that's the case, he knows he certainly deserves it. 

He's worried for their relationship. They haven't had sex in almost a month now, or spent a whole lot of time together that didn't involve working or Ignis trying to take care of him in some way. Noct has been lying to him and misleading him, and not making any effort to communicate his problems. Now they've gone and had this argument and Noct has behaved like a colossal dick. He doesn't want them to break up, but if he were Ignis, he would have left long ago. He's not sure what Ignis' line is, but he feels that he's dangerously close to crossing it. 

He has to make therapy work. Somehow. He doesn't know how yet, but he has to find a way to stop panicking and actually _talk_. Ignis is the best thing in his life, the best relationship he's ever had in _any_ sense—romantic partner, friend, family, advisor, protector, _all of it_ —and he doesn't want to lose that just because he can't manage to get his shit together. 

A couple hours later, he's got several fish swimming around on his stringer in the water and a hungry ache in his stomach. He sets his rod aside, pulling a small cooler with his sandwiches from the Armiger. He unwraps one and takes a bite, watching with amusement as Effy comes running over, having been near enough to smell the ham. He tears off a small piece, tossing it to her, and watches as she gobbles it down instantly, not even chewing. "You're a silly girl," he tells her with a smile, even as he tosses her a second piece. 

Between the two of them, they make short work of the sandwiches, and once they're gone Effy goes over to the water, watching his caught fish intently, her head cocked to one side as her eyes follow their every movement. "Gonna add more to that soon," Noct tells her, banishing the cooler back to his Armiger. 

True to his word, he's soon got three more fish added, but a noise across the pipes catches his attention, making him lower his rod. He looks over to see Prompto helping Ignis down onto the pipes to cross, his stomach clenching in immediate anxiety at the sight. He hasn't figured out what he wants to say to Ignis yet. 

"Thank you, Prompto," Ignis murmurs once they're back on land. 

"No prob!" Prompto says, waving at Noct. "Lakefish?" 

Noct manages to grin. "Yeah." 

"Get some good ones," Prompto tells him, before retreating back over the pipes again. Noct gets up, pulling another chair from the Armiger for Ignis—a ridiculous amount of their old camping gear is still stored in there because he's been too lazy to pull it out—and directs him to it with quiet words that he hopes hide the nervousness he's feeling. 

Ignis doesn't say anything once he's settled, and Noct's not sure if _he's_ meant to say something or if Ignis is content to simply be here for the moment, staring sightlessly out at the reservoir. He can't tell if Ignis is upset or mad at him, and that fact makes his anxiety kick up a notch. 

After a moment's indecision, he stays quiet and casts his line back out, glancing to Ignis every now and then. He feels awkward. What does he say? Should he start with sorry and go from there? Will Ignis even be receptive to an apology right now? He's here of his own volition at least, so Noct supposes that's something. 

Effy meanders over, wrapping her tail around Ignis' leg as she rubs against him. "Please tell me that's Effy and not some stray animal," Ignis says. 

Noct snorts. "It's her," he says, and then focuses on reeling his latest fish in. "I took her collar off so she could sneak around quietly and bring down the big, bad insects." 

"Ah." 

He adds yet another catfish to his collection on the stringer, then digs through his tackle box for a new lure, wanting to see if he can attract something other than the catfish. Once he's got the new one on, however, he doesn't cast the line. He glances over at Ignis, who's leaning down and giving Effy a belly rub, bites down on his lip briefly, and then blurts out, "I'll go to therapy." Fuck. That wasn't what he meant to start with. Already he's managing to mess things up. 

Ignis' hand pauses in its motions, then resumes. He doesn't say anything. 

Noct sets his fishing rod down on the ground, and resists the urge to bite his lip harder. "I'm sorry," he tries. He wants Ignis to respond, to give him direction, to tell him what more he should say to make things right, but still Ignis says nothing. Maybe there _isn't_ anything he can say to fix it. Noct sighs. "I screwed up again." 

"Undoubtedly." 

Noct sighs again, hanging his head. "Fuck, I—What I said... I know you care." Astrals, he _hates_ this. It's so awkward, and he's doing it all wrong, everything's out of order, and he feels like a complete idiot. He's almost glad in a way that Ignis can't see him, because he can feel how red his face is. "But I'll try therapy again. I know I'm—you always have to deal with my stuff, and it's not fair to you. I don't want to be a burden to—" 

"Noctis Lucis Caelum." Ignis' voice is loud, his tone hard, and it halts Noct's words immediately, his teeth clacking together painfully as he snaps his jaw shut. "Don't you dare to call yourself a burden again. I feared you were _dead_. Dealing with your difficulties is no comparison to that, had I even been inclined to find you a burden before, which I did not." 

"Iggy, I—" His chest's tight, the words sticking in his throat as he struggles to breathe. It's not a panic attack, at least he doesn't believe so, he just finds that, like yesterday, hearing those words makes him want to break out into tears. "I'm sorry," he manages to say. It's so inadequate. It's nothing at all what Ignis deserves. But he can't seem to find the right words. 

"You always are," Ignis says, and it's the truth, but it still hurts like hell to hear. 

"I'll do better." 

Ignis shakes his head slowly. "I can't ask that of you." He turns his head towards Noct, staring slightly to the left of his face. "I do not wish to place unreasonable expectations on you. I only wish for you to give things an honest try." 

"...I had a panic attack," Noct admits quietly. 

"Out in the city?" Ignis asks, his forehead crinkling up. 

"During my appointment." 

"Ah. That certainly helps put some things in perspective. I'm sorry, Noct." 

Noct leans over the arm of his chair and snags his fishing rod from the ground, preparing to cast again. This conversation's taken too many emotional turns, and it's making him uncomfortable. He wants something other than his words to focus on. "I didn't mean for you to worry that much." 

"But you did intend for me to worry." 

He stares out at the water, at the spot where his lure sank beneath the surface, and feels the shame spill over him like a bucket of hot water. "I was being a dick." 

"Yes, quite so." 

"I don't know how to fix things." 

Ignis exhales softly, turning his head back to the water as well. "I would rather you not offer empty apologies. I know you mean them; however, the more you continue to say them, the less impact they have. I would prefer to see some effort from you. Real effort, to attend therapy, and to find better ways to cope." 

"I'll go," Noct says, swallowing hard. "I'll try." He can only pray to the Astrals that he'll be able to keep this promise. 

* * *

"Hello, Noctis. It's good to see you back." 

Noct nods, somehow managing to force out the word "Yeah." Dr. Sidra's smiling at him, but he can't smile back. He told Ignis he'd try, but everything in him wants to get up and run, to the point that he's poised on the edge of the couch, entire body tense and hunched forward so he can leap up and flee at a moment's notice. It's only his fingers gripping the ends of the cushions so tightly they've turned white that keeps him grounded. It's hard to breathe, his chest feels so tight and heavy, _hurting_ , crushing his lungs, and it's a struggle to draw a full breath, but he can't keep himself from attempting to do so, which in turn only makes his chest hurt more. 

Ignis is in the other room, waiting on him to do this, waiting on him to come in here and talk and get better so he can stop being a burden—Ignis' words notwithstanding, he _knows_ he is one—but sweat's trickling down his back again, sticky and gross, there's acid in his throat and a sick knot in his stomach, everything in the room is closing in on him, he feels trapped, he can't speak, he can't breathe— 

"—through your nose, hold it, hold it, and out through your mouth, slowly, slowly—" 

He can't do this, he was wrong again, he shouldn't have come, shouldn't have even tried, Ignis is going to be so disappointed in him— 

"—deep breath, inhale slowly through your nose, hold it, hold—" 

The words register slowly, but in a sea of panic they're something solid to hold onto and keep him afloat, so he holds his head above the waves of his thoughts and listens, doing his best to follow along with the instructions. It feels like it takes him forever to calm down and steady his breathing, but when he's able to glance at the clock on the wall behind her desk, it informs him it's only been about ten minutes. "Sorry," he says when he can breathe properly again. 

She shakes her head, giving him another smile. "Not necessary. Are panic attacks something you experience frequently?" 

Noct takes another deep breath, trying to keep himself relaxed. It's a simple question with a simple answer, he can handle it, and there's no reason for it to cause another breakdown. "Yeah." 

"Is there something in particular that's causing them to happen when you're in here?" 

To that, Noct only shrugs, looking down to his lap. He can't even begin to know how to explain all his fear and stress about being in this office. 

"Are you shrugging because you don't know, or because you know but would rather not say?" 

He doesn't answer that one, not even with body language, and after a moment he hears the sound of her chair scooting across the floor as she rolls over closer to him. 

"Noctis." He hears her lean forward, and she waits to speak again until he raises his face, briefly meeting her eyes before glancing away again. Her face is serious, no hint of a smile now, but there's still a kindness in her eyes that puts him at ease some. "I know it's hard to come in here and talk to a complete stranger about all of your deepest, innermost feelings, all of your fears and worries, the things that make you ashamed or embarrassed, the struggles with mental health that you believe you should be able to overcome on your own. I see a lot of that in my new patients. 

"And for you I understand it's probably even harder. You've spent your life living with public scrutiny, born into a celebrity position of sorts that you never asked for. If the barrage of paperwork your advisor subjected me to is any indication, you have had to consider carefully for your whole life what information you disclose to health care professionals. Am I right?" 

"Never know what someone might try and leak to the public," he mutters, wrapping his arms across his chest. 

Noct watches her feet relax as she leans back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. "I understand that trust is something to be earned, and I don't expect to earn yours right away, or anytime soon," she tells him. That surprises him, and he dares to dart another quick glance at her face. Her expression seems sincere, and he has hope that she means what she's saying. 

Dr. Sidra continues on. "But I want you to hear this now, so that you can decide whether it's worth reaching for that trust. Anything you say to me in this room will never leave it, nor will it ever be repeated to anyone else. And I mean _anyone_. Not the media, not the general public, not your friend out in the waiting room or anyone calling on your behalf, not any of my colleagues or friends, not any of my other patients. _No one_ other than you and me will ever hear what you say in this room. I take all of my patients' privacy very seriously, no how matter who or how famous they are. 

"And furthermore, I also want you to know you are not obligated to talk to me about anything you're not comfortable with. Now, this is talk therapy of course, so you will benefit most from talking about what's on your mind, but if you're not ready or it's something you just can't bring yourself to discuss with me, I'm not going to continue to ask you about it, or try and make you tell me. You can just let me know you'd rather not tell me, and we'll move on. In return, I ask that you at least try and verbalise your responses to me when possible, so that I can better gauge whether you _want_ to talk but aren't sure what to say, or if it's a topic that's off limits. Does that sound agreeable?" 

It does. A lot more than he had expected it to. It eases the tension in his muscles, enough that he's able to sink back into the couch some, the urge to flee lessening. He's not really ready to talk yet, far from it, but knowing that he's not expected to come in here and start spilling out all his feelings immediately helps immensely. 

And he likes the idea of being able to say no to a topic whenever he wants. It gives him a sense of control, something he's felt has largely been lacking in his life since he returned from the Crystal—and before he ever went into it, if he's honest. So much of his life has been determined by fate, by prophecy and the Astrals' bidding, all of it ultimately leading him to this point in his life. He's tired of it. It's time to take his life back. "Yeah," he says, looking at her fully for the first time since stepping in the room. 

She smiles at him. It really is a nice smile, friendly and genuine, lighting up her whole face. That helps too. "So, my earlier question—" 

"I know," he says, anxiety at the return of topic to his panic attacks making him interrupt without meaning to. He feels his face flush, and bites down on his lip for a moment. "Don't wanna talk about it." 

"That's fine," and despite her reassurances, Noct's still amazed when she goes right on without any sort of prodding, "are you able to recognise an impending panic attack?" 

"Sometimes," he says slowly, as he considers the question. He's never given it much thought before. "Most of the time?" 

"If you like, there are some breathing exercises I can teach you that can help halt or slow a panic attack, such as the one we did earlier. You can do them alone, at any time, even when you're not panicking, and they'll still be beneficial. Or there are also some mindfulness exercises that you might find useful, or perhaps even a grounding technique." 

"Mindfulness?" 

"In simple terms, they're exercises to help your mind be aware of what you're experiencing in the present moment, but not become overly reactive to or be overwhelmed by it." 

Noct's doubtful about that. He's already very aware of what he's experiencing, and he's not sure he wants to be even more aware of it. "What's grounding?" 

"Sometimes people who are having a panic attack have a hard time staying in the present, or connected to reality. Certain techniques can help 'ground' someone to the here and now." 

At that, he perks up. He's still doubtful about the usefulness of these techniques, or if they can help him, but 'grounding' sounds like exactly what he needs for his dissociation, which often go hand-in-hand with his panic attacks. But he knows for sure that the breathing helps, and it would be good if he could learn how to do it on his own and try it _before_ he drowns in a sea of panic. He bites his lip again, gnawing on it absently as he thinks. 

Dr. Sidra apparently sees the indecision written across his face. "How about we try one of each?" she suggests. "There's enough time. The ones I have in mind are all simple to learn, and once you know them you can practice them whenever you like at home." 

He nods in agreement. That doesn't sound too bad. And it's not talking. Eventually he'll have to talk, he knows, but... not right now. He's not ready. It's enough that he's even here. 

When he heads out into the waiting room half an hour later, appointment over, he feels confident enough to make a third one, and this time he has the intention to keep it. 

"Did everything go well?" Ignis asks him once they're in the truck heading back to Insomnia. 

Noct stares at the road in front of him, the dim lights of the tunnel giving it an odd tint, and wonders if Ignis is going to make this question a habit now that he knows the first one didn't go so well. It's not prying, not exactly, but Noct doesn't like the question nonetheless. "Yeah," he says, hoping to leave it at that. 

"There was no panic attack this time?" and okay, that one _is_ prying, and Ignis had said Noct didn't have to talk to him about his appointments. 

"Not your business," he says, trying to keep his voice level as his fingers curl around the steering wheel a little more tightly. 

Ignis is quiet for a moment. "You're right," he says, as they leave the tunnel behind for the darkness of the night. "My apologies." He turns the topic to other matters, and Noct relaxes. 

* * *

"Hey, Gladio! Ready to get your ass... kicked..." Noct halts as he rounds the corner, words dying in his throat at the sight that greets him. 

"Noct!" Prompto yelps, pulling away from Gladio as if he'd been burned. He seems to forget that his hand is still down Gladio's sweatpants, however, and the unexpected pullback from the fabric makes him stumble and nearly fall on his ass until Gladio reaches out with an arm to steady him. 

"Uh," is all Noct can think to say. His face feels as red as Prompto's looks. 

"You're early," Gladio says, rather calm for a guy who just got caught with his mouth sucking all over his friend's neck. 

"Yeah. Sorry," Noct says, then spins around and leaves. 

* * *

"My friends are dating. I think." 

"You think?" Dr. Sidra raises an eyebrow at him, one corner of her mouth quirking up slightly. 

"Well. Prompto had his hand in Gladio's sweatpants." 

"Does it upset you?" 

It does, though not for the reasons she would likely assume. It bothers him that Gladio is apparently Prompto's mystery guy because two of his friends have become close enough to have feelings for each other and he's been so wrapped up in himself that he never once noticed. And it's a reminder that they spent ten years growing into people that he still sometimes doesn't recognise while he was locked away at Bahamut's bidding, and it makes him bitter about his loss all over again. "No," he says. 

The look on her face says she doesn't quite believe him, but she isn't going to press him, as she'd promised a couple of weeks ago. 

It's his fifth session. He's been going twice a week, mostly because he feels obligated to so that he can make Ignis happy. So far, he hasn't talked all that much, at least not about anything he _should_ be addressing. He's talked about his friends some, and Effy, and went on a bit enthusiastically about fishing at his last appointment—letting her gradually get to know a little about him, gauging how she reacts to things, trying to decide if she's worth trusting, if she has a chance at helping him. 

"Maybe they're only hooking up," she offers. 

"Maybe. That's what Prompto said." 

"After you saw him with his hand in Gladio's sweatpants?" 

Noct reddens. He hadn't thought much about it when he was saying it, but hearing her repeat it gives him a flash of remembered embarrassment for the scene he'd walked in on this afternoon. "No, before. Told me he was hooking up with a guy. Wouldn't say who. Didn't know if the guy—Gladio, I guess—wanted a relationship." 

"But Prompto did?" 

He has to admit, he's impressed she's willing to keep the conversation going when she can't possibly have any interest in his friends' sex lives. She has to know this isn't an issue he sought therapy for, and yet she's not forcing him to talk about why he _did_ seek therapy. Like losing ten years of his life and feeling left behind as his friends grew up and moved on without him. "Yeah." 

Ignis is waiting for him when he walks out forty minutes later. He's spent half the session trying not to let on that he's disconnected from reality, just a little, not enough to send him into his usual distress but rather to leave him feeling slightly uncomfortable, and now that he's done with her he still has to keep pretending, because he doesn't want Ignis to worry or think that therapy is doing nothing for him—or worse, think that he isn't trying. Ignis _also_ probably won't let him drive if he knows Noct's dissociating, and Noct really has no desire to be stuck in Lestallum for any long length of time. 

"Did everything go well?" It's become Ignis' standard question, same words every time, exactly as Noct had feared. It's making him feel increasingly uncomfortable, but he's reluctant to say anything because, well, it's not really specifics that Ignis is asking about, is it? He doesn't ever ask anything more, so Noct doesn't understand why he feels so bothered by the question, why it makes him feel as if he's _supposed_ to tell Ignis every little thing that went on in the session. 

"Yeah," he says, his standard response, and tries to focus on driving. It's difficult when he can't quite feel the seat beneath him and has the odd sensation of almost floating through the air, in a sense. He feels like he's lying to Ignis when he says his sessions went fine. He's not, exactly—there hasn't been any more panic attacks in them, and it's taking him less time to relax at the start now, but he hasn't said anything worthwhile so far, or even tried those exercises Dr. Sidra had taught him, despite having dissociated a few times since then. He'd also had a panic attack after waking from a nightmare the other night, and the breathing exercise hadn't even occurred to him. Ignis doesn't know about any of that either, and the whole thing makes him feel incredibly guilty, because if Ignis did know, Noct knows he'd be so disappointed in him. 

When they get back, Noct claims exhaustion and heads to his room. Prompto's loitering in the hallway outside his door, looking awkward. Noct's been expecting one of his friends to come talk to him about what he'd walked in on earlier, but he'd hoped for more time first. He's still dissociating, and dealing with a potentially embarrassing conversation while in such a state is not his idea of a good evening. 

He opens the door without a word, Prompto following in behind him after a brief hesitation, and makes straight for his bed, flopping down on it. That was one thing he didn't lie to Ignis about—he _is_ exhausted. "Gladio, huh?" he says as Prompto hovers uncertainly in his bedroom doorway. 

His best friend lets out a little laugh, rubbing at one side of his neck. "Ah, yeah..." 

"You dating yet?" he asks as he gropes for his pillow, pulling it to him and burying his face in it. Others would find it rude, but Prompto knows him well enough to not take it personally. He knows Noct's focused on the conversation. 

"No..." Prompto apparently decides to leave the safety of his doorway, his footsteps approaching the side of Noct's bed. "I think maybe it's stress relief for him, you know? I don't think he likes me as anything other than a friend." There's a sadness to Prompto's tone with that statement that Noct doesn't like. 

"You could ask him," Noct points out, lifting his face some so it won't be totally muffled by the pillow. 

"No, 'cause what if he says no and I make him feel bad? Or what if he feels obligated to date me? Or worse, decides to stop hooking up with me? I like sex, Noct!" Prompto screeches, flailing his arms at him. "I like it a lot! And before Gladio do you know how long it had been? Months! Months, Noct! I don't want it to stop!" 

Noct groans, letting his face fall back into the pillow. "Oh gods, spare me," he mumbles. Prompto's getting worked up, which means he's a lot more bothered by what is or isn't between him and Gladio than he wants to let on. And Noct's sympathetic to that, but he has no clue what to say to help Prompto, or make him feel better. He has no experience with relationships—he wouldn't even be with Ignis if it weren't for Prompto. "You want me to ask him?" 

"No! Noct, you can't! He'll know I want to know then, don't ask him, please!" 

"Alright," Noct says. "I won't. Sheesh. Just stop hyperventilating." 

Prompto stops waving his arms, taking a couple of deep breaths. "Sorry. You're not mad?" 

"I'm used to your dramatics." 

"Noct! Not about that! That I didn't tell you it was Gladio." 

"Nah. It's cool. You would have told me eventually." 

"And... you don't think it's weird?" 

Noct shifts on his side, looking up at his best friend. Prompto's still beside the bed, his cheeks a bright red, his eyes firmly fixated on a point on the wall somewhere behind Noct. He's standing rigid, but his fingers are toying with the hem of his shirt, pulling at some loose threads. It baffles him that Prompto's so nervous. Does he really expect Noct to disapprove? "Why's it weird?" 

"It's—you know—'cause—well Gladio's your Shield! And I'm your best friend!" 

"And Ignis is my advisor, and Cor is the head of my Crownsguard, and Effy is my cat—" 

"Noct!" Prompto wails, flailing again. 

"Prompto, seriously, it's fine. I don't mind. It's not weird." 

Prompto calms again, his blush fading as he turns from Noct to explore the nightstand next to him. "Hey, I remember this picture!" he says, inspecting the picture of Ignis and Noct that Noct had put there a few weeks ago. "I never gave you a copy." 

"Stole it from your house the other week," Noct says, entirely unrepentant. Prompto glares at him briefly before continuing to poke around. Noct watches him for a moment, quiet, before a thought hits him. He snickers, making Prompto give him a suspicious look. "So, if I hadn't walked in on you... would you two have ended up humping like bunnies?" 

Prompto flushes and gives him a dirty look, clearly remembering his own similar words to Noct months ago. "Shut up." 

Noct simply grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of feel like there probably wouldn't be fish in the reservoir after ten years of darkness, but then honestly everyone and everything should have died when the sun snuffed it, so we're just ignoring that :)
> 
> And if you find the lakefish thing weird, sorry. It's an inside joke from one of my nano write-ins this month, I promised I'd include it in my fic, so you're stuck with it :D
> 
> Also, after all the angst I've put him through, I decided to be nice and give Noct a great therapist right away, instead of the endless searching for that person you can connect with and truly isn't going to judge you and whose methods actually work for you that finding a therapist often involves. I had to at least do ONE nice thing for him (well, I guess he got a cat too, but that was inevitable. #noctdeservesacat2k18).
> 
> Thanks as always for your awesome comments and love for this fic! You guys make all this effort worth it <3 Feel free to let me know your thoughts on this chapter, if you want!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tentacles.

Umbra's barking.

There's something odd about that. He's not sure what. It's not the first time Umbra's appeared out of nowhere—the time at Wiz's ranch comes to mind. And of course, all the times he's brought Luna's journal. 

Noct sets down his plate, dinner forgotten, and looks out towards the woods. 

"Is everything alright, Noct?" Ignis asks, his tone concerned. 

"Yeah, fine," Noct says, but he's not really paying attention. Umbra's out there in the distance, standing amongst the trees, and for reasons Noct can't explain, it's unsettling. He has the oddest feeling that Umbra's not supposed to be here—but that's ridiculous, Umbra's a dog, a magical one at that, and can come and go as he pleases. 

He steps towards the edge of the haven, in Umbra's direction. The dog wags his tail at him, barking some more before looking away and then back at Noct. It's a clear invitation to follow him, and though he doesn't understand why, Noct feels deeply compelled to do so. "Be right back," he says, quickly clambering down the rocks to the ground below. 

"Hey, don't go off alone, it's nearing sundown," Gladio says. "It's dangerous." 

Noct looks up at him. Gladio's frowning, but he's making no move to get up from his chair and accompany Noct, or keep him from going. That seems weird, because even though Noct's more than capable of taking care of himself, Gladio has been suffocatingly protective of him on this little trip. "I'll be fine," he says. "Daemons aren't a problem." 

"Noct—" but Noct ignores him, jogging towards Umbra. The dog gives an excited yip, standing and turning, tail wagging happily as he bounds off further into the woods. Noct follows after him, dodging low-hanging branches and fallen logs, wondering where Umbra could possibly be leading him. 

He loses track of time, and then loses sight of Umbra. No matter how fast he runs, he can't seem to catch up to the magical dog. But he can still hear the barking, and that spurs him on, feeding the strange need inside him to follow. 

Sundown approaches rapidly, and Umbra's nowhere in sight, his barking far-off now. "Umbra!" Noct yells, but the dog doesn't materialise. Finally he stops, bent over, hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. His bad knee is aching something fierce, and he spares a moment to wonder if he'll still be able to run when he's older. The thought's upsetting, so he shoves it away. "Umbra!" he calls again, but there's still no sign of Luna's companion. 

Sighing, he straightens up, walking forward again. His knee hurts too much to keep running, but he's still inexplicably drawn to the barking. He has to find Umbra. 

The sky darkens and the trees grow closer, the surrounding brush thickening in knotted tangles as he continues on. If he's honest with himself, it's a little creepy, and he starts to feel unnerved. The haven they'd camped at wasn't too far from Costlemark Tower, and Noct's been running long enough that he should have come upon it by now, but like Umbra, there's been no sign of it, and he doesn't like it. It feels off. If he's not been running in the direction of Costlemark, then where is he? 

No sooner does he think that then Costlemark suddenly looms in front of him, half-hidden by the trees and looking foreboding in the gloom of twilight. It's almost as if the ruins appeared in response to his thought, and that's even more unnerving. He's starting to get the sensation that something is _very wrong_ , but he has no idea what. There's nothing he can pinpoint that's truly out of place, so there's no reason for the alarm bells in his mind. 

"Umbra!" His loud shout doesn't bring Umbra running, but it does disturb an owl, the bird's small wings flapping in the branches above him before it takes flight, gliding through the air as it lets out a gentle trill. It should relax him—owls are typically considered a good omen, at least in Insomnia—but where normally this particular owl's trill is soothing, right now it sounds... eerie. It's loud in the otherwise quiet forest, and it makes him consciously aware of how _still_ everything else is. There should be other noises, other movements—birds calling, insects chittering, lizards rustling among the leaves littering the ground—but there's nothing. 

The alarm bells get louder, and Noct considers that maybe he should just go back to the haven, but Umbra's still barking faintly and he can't bring himself to turn around. So he presses on, heading towards the ruins, but it gets darker, the sun setting behind him, and Umbra's barking gets softer and softer, until Noct can no longer hear it. He stops in the doorway of the tower before the crumbling and broken stairs, the first stirrings of panic forming. He can't stay out in the dark alone, there are daemons, dangerous ones like iron giants; he needs a safe place to hole up for the night. 

The red runes on the ruins are all lit up, indicating the tower's open, but Noct has no intentions of going in. Daemons are a possibility out here, but they're a certainty in there. Instead he decides to head back for the haven after all. The others are probably worried about him by now, though he's suddenly aware they haven't called or texted to check on him even once. It's odd, and sets off even more alarm bells. Ignis should be frantic at this point... 

Walking, and walking, and there's nothing but trees all around him, all of them looking the same no matter which direction he turns. It's so dark he can barely see his own hand in front of his face, and the light he keeps clipped to his shirt isn't working. The haven shouldn't be that far, but he's lost, and the alarm bells are screaming now. He can hear something skittering around in the bushes to his left, following his steps, stopping when he stops. Stalking him. It's probably just some imps, but not knowing scares him. The panic's got a tight grip on him now, and he yanks his phone out of his jacket, bringing up the contact for Ignis with trembling fingers. 

The phone rings with no answer, and after the tenth ring it occurs to him that Ignis' voice mail should have kicked in by now. Noct swallows, holding his phone tighter to his ear, listening to the endless ringing for several more minutes until he finally lowers the phone in defeat. Prompto's and Gladio's numbers yield the same results, and Noct shoves his phone back into his pocket, blinking back tears of panic. Fear wraps around him, squeezing hard, and he struggles to breathe. The imps following him begin chattering in high-pitched excitement as they creep around in the bushes, still keeping their distance for the moment but clearly preparing to close in. 

He should care, but he doesn't. The fear and panic are consuming him, drowning him in them, and he drops to the ground, huddling up as he gasps breath after ragged breath. 

Suddenly Umbra begins barking again, and he jerks his head up, looking around desperately for any sign of Luna's dog. Umbra's black fur will blend in with the dark, but the bright neckerchief he wears should stand out, if he's nearby. His eyes scan his surroundings frantically, but like before, there's no sign of him. 

Still, it's enough to abate his panic some, and Noct climbs to his feet, ignoring the angry screeching of the imps as he heads towards the barking. It sounds nearer than it did when he lost track of it earlier, and as he runs toward the noise it gets louder, giving him hope that he'll finally catch up to Umbra. The urge to find him is back, gnawing harder than before, driving him onward. His feet pound against the ground in time with the heartbeat pounding in his chest, and blood rushes through his ears, whistling noisily, but Umbra's barking rings out above it all, leading him to some unknown destination. 

The barking gets louder as he gets closer, and Noct slows some, looking for anything bright standing out in the dark. "Umbra," he calls, his voice tinged with urgency, "Umbra, where are you, boy?" 

The dog doesn't materialise, but the barking continues, and Noct runs forward until he's practically on top of the sound, halting in confusion and frustration. "Umbra?" He's in a clearing, a canopy of tree branches above him, their long limbs twisting and reaching across the sky, smaller spindly twigs sprouting from the ends in a disturbing caricature of human fingers. Beams of moonlight shine down in-between, casting warped and distorted shadows on the ground. It's an eerie sight, but Noct barely pays it any mind, all his attention focused on the trunks of the trees, expecting Umbra to emerge from behind one of them at any moment. 

"Umbra, come on," he tries, whirling around in a circle, searching the trees, and the barking is echoing all around him, getting louder, louder, ever louder until it's shrill and piercing, hurting Noct's ears. He spins around some more, confused and scared, and then screams in panic when something cold and slimy wraps around his upper body, enveloping his body in its chilled embrace, wet fingers splaying across his chest. Something else curls around each of his legs, wet and disgusting and just as cold, and Noct looks down just in time to see they're tentacles, and their suckers are latching tightly to his skin. The stinging feeling makes him cry out, but the sensation is soon forgotten when another tentacle slithers uncomfortably up his body, snaking across his mouth and muffling his cries. Slime slides across his lips, the rotting taste making him gag. 

The barking stops suddenly, the forest going eerily quiet again. It sends a chill down his spine, and Noct's body gives an involuntary shiver. The tentacles around him tighten even more, and he begins to struggle, wanting free. It's not the first time he's been caught in the grip of a mindflayer, but every time before, one of his friends has always been there to help free him. Now he's got no one, and the panic of that realisation slams into him, making his breathing quicken once more, still stifled by the tentacle. He struggles harder, but that only makes the tentacles squeeze harder in return, crushing him until his chest aches and small spots dance in front of his eyes. 

A dry, rasping laugh fills his mind, and it takes him a long moment to realise it's the mindflayer. _There's no escaping me_ , it says, and that's wrong, something about that statement is very wrong, but Noct's frantic to get loose and he can't figure out why the mindflayer's words feel so off. 

He opens his mouth, wanting to yell and to plead to be let go—knowing it's pointless but feeling the need to try anyway—but the mindflayer takes the opportunity to slide the tentacle over his lips into his mouth instead. Slime drips from it down the back of his throat, and Noct gags, choking on the taste, his stomach threatening to send up his earlier half-eaten dinner. 

Despite that, he chances biting down on the slick appendage, clamping his teeth together as hard as he can manage. In his mind, the mindflayer lets out a shrill hiss, and one of the tentacles on his legs curls around his bad knee, squeezing until something snaps, the sound ringing audibly in the night, and pain washes over Noct in an instant, making him scream. The mindflayer squeezes even harder, shattering bone, and Noct's vision whites out as burning agony races out from his knee, overwhelming him, his scream dying down into a pitiful moan. 

When he wakes, he's still moaning, and his knee's throbbing with the phantom memory of pain. His hands scrabble desperately for it in the dark, groping at it, feeling all around the kneecap to reassure himself the bone is still whole. A dream. It was just a dream. He's breathing harshly, the sound loud in the quiet bedroom, and his eyes dart around to the shadows of his furniture, his mind half-certain he's still in the woods outside Costlemark somewhere, and _this_ is the dream. It's a stupid thought—Umbra is still at Hammerhead with Cindy, and none of them have camped at any haven in ages, let alone the one near that hellish nightmare of a tower. And his friends had all been in their early twenties... so it was definitely a dream. Unless— 

In the ruins of that thought, a new one emerges. Maybe _everything_ has been a dream—maybe everyone is still in their twenties after all, maybe they've never taken back Insomnia, or found the crystal, or even been to Gralea, or _Altissia_. Maybe Luna isn't dead. Maybe they actually are camped near Costlemark, and they're in the tower right now, and he actually is in the grip of a mindflayer, his mind being poisoned by its psychological torture, and everything has just been one long crazy mind trip— 

It should be everything Noct wants, and yet it makes him panic even more. If it's not real, he's suffered for nothing. His breath catches, his mind racing in a turmoil of confusion. This thought is even more stupid than the first—everything has been too _real_ to be a mere dream. But if Umbra and the mindflayer are the dream... that had felt so real too. How can he be sure? 

He can feel the panic building, his thoughts spiralling down into fear and doubt, and he knows he's about to have a full-blown panic attack, but he doesn't want to, he's so tired of them, he wants them to stop— 

Unbidden, the breathing exercise he'd been shown in therapy pops into his mind. He's still doubtful that it'll be helpful, but at this point, what has he got to lose? 

The images of the dark forest are still lurking in his brain, upsetting and disturbing him, but he tries to push them away and focus on the steps Dr. Sidra had told him. Pay attention to his current breathing first—it's short, and too fast, and hurts his chest. Why does this matter? He can't remember. It makes him feel stupid. This isn't going to work, he shouldn't even try, he's going to go into the panic attack and he should just accept that... 

Noct really wants it to work though. He just wants _something_ to help. He tries to recall the next step, but his mind is jumbled up with all his negative emotions and thoughts, and he can't remember the specifics. Something about breathing for a few seconds, but he can't remember if it's through his mouth or his nose, if it's supposed to be a deep breath or a regular one and the fact that he can't remember upsets him even more he doesn't want to be like this anymore he doesn't want to deal with this and he hates them and he hates the nightmares and he just wants to be _better_ — 

He doesn't know how long it takes him to calm down, but by the time the panic attack's over he feels drained, physically and emotionally. Part of him wants to go to Ignis, but he's worried that even if Ignis doesn't say anything, he'll want Noct to talk about what upset him, and he'll sense that and end up feeling pressured to talk about the nightmare and the panic attack despite that being the _last_ thing he wants to do right now. 

And he hasn't really gone to Ignis for most of his episodes lately; he's gone only enough to make Ignis not suspicious about the sudden lack of them. It makes him feel terrible, because it's yet more lying that he's doing, but he's so scared of failing and disappointing Ignis. He feels so much pressure to get better right from the start, as fast as possible, so that he can finally stop being a burden to Ignis and be the person Ignis has been waiting for him to be all these months. He can't possibly tell the truth about this, of all things. 

Exhaling slowly, he reaches out beside him and grasps his Carbuncle totem, curling his fingers tightly around it. Holding it always manages to soothe him, even without the little fox's actual presence in his dreams. He thinks back to the last dream Carbuncle had shown up in, when he'd taken Noct through Insomnia as it could be. Trust your friends, he'd said, and Noct's been trying more, but this feels different. Ignis had said he didn't expect Noct to talk about his sessions, but if Noct admits they're not really going anywhere yet, even if Ignis doesn't mean to he'll start probing for the reasons why, and then Noct will feel even less inclined to talk about them, or talk in them. And that won't help either of them. So maybe it's okay if he's lying, just this once. Isn't it? He thinks it is. 

It doesn't make him feel any less guilty, though. 

* * *

"Is there anything in particular you'd like to talk about today?" 

Noct hesitates. Dr. Sidra's smiling kindly at him, like always. It puts him at ease. He's feeling more and more like he really can trust her, at least for some of his problems. So far, she's stuck to everything she'd promised in his second session, and it's just so _easy_ to talk to her—even if it's pointless, silly stuff like how much Effy loves her latest toy he bought, she never makes him feel that she's judging him, or is bored by him. It feels a little stupid, but in just a few weeks he has the sense that she genuinely cares, that's she interested in his life and his problems, and sincerely wants to help him. 

And for the first time, he finds himself _wanting_ to talk to her. Not just about the little inconsequential things, but the real things, the things he can't deal with on his own. The things he struggles to talk to his friends about, because he doesn't want to worry them, or be a burden on them, but also doesn't want to keep them locked away in his mind any longer, because they've turned him into someone he doesn't like, and it frightens him. If she has a chance at helping him be himself again, then he wants to take it. 

Doubt still plagues him though. What he wants most is to discuss the panic attack he had a couple nights ago, and his failure to get the breathing exercise to work. But it makes him feel weak and ashamed to admit to it, and even if she hasn't forced him to talk about anything so far, what if that changes with something more serious? 

"Noctis?" 

Right. He hasn't answered her. He chews on his lip, indecision pulling at him. She hasn't gone back on her word about making him talk, there's no reason for her to do so now. Carbuncle had told him to trust his friends, and though Dr. Sidra isn't a friend, he has a feeling the little fox would tell him to trust her as well. And if he _is_ ever going to get any better, then at some point he has to take the plunge and open up to her. 

He takes a deep breath, and forces himself to meet her eyes. "There is something," he makes himself say. She gives him an encouraging nod, leaning forward in her seat, a focused expression taking over her face. It takes another deep breath before he can get the next words out, and anxiety's a sick pit low in his stomach. "I had a panic attack." He bites down on his lip briefly, trying to keep calm. "I couldn't get the breathing exercise to work." 

"I'm sorry to hear that," she says, and there's nothing but sympathy in her tone. No disgust, no annoyance, nothing to suggest she finds him weak in any way. "Do you know what triggered the panic attack?" 

"Yeah," he mutters, loathing the flush of embarrassment that steals over his face. "A nightmare." A stupid one at that, and he hates how much he'd let it upset him. He's had much worse nightmares, he doesn't know why _that_ one got to him so bad. 

"What was the nightmare about?" 

Noct tenses at the question. Despite himself, he's still worried she's going to push. "I don't want to talk about it." 

To his immense relief, she moves on agreeably, and some of his anxiety lessens. "Were you aware of the panic attack coming on?" 

"Yeah." 

"And that's when you tried the exercise?" 

"Yeah," he says again. "But it didn't work." 

"What part didn't work?" 

"All of it, I guess..." He sighs, feeling a little pathetic. "I couldn't focus on my breathing, and I couldn't remember all of the steps." 

"After a nightmare, that's understandable. It's a tall order to focus when you're upset. You shouldn't allow this to discourage you, Noctis. It will take time. Have you been practicing when you're calm?" There's no disappointed tone to her words, and it surprises him. Ignis would have been disappointed. Even if he'd tried to hide it, Noct would have known, and felt terrible. Dr. Sidra makes him feel like it's normal, and even expected. He likes that. It makes him feel secure enough to speak the truth with his next statement. 

"No," he admits. "Guess I thought it wouldn't help..." 

"Practicing the exercises when you're calm encourages familiarity and routine," she tells him, giving him another one of her reassuring smiles. "It means that it will be easier to recall when you're upset, because your brain will already know the steps and won't have to actively think about them." 

It makes sense. There's definitely a logic to it, and Noct suddenly feels self-conscious that he didn't pick up on that himself. 

"Why don't we go over it again," Dr. Sidra says, "and then for homework I want you to spend ten minutes practicing it every morning when you wake up, and again before you go to bed. Does that sound agreeable?" 

"Yeah." 

They spend the next twenty minutes going slowly over the steps, and he even writes them down on his phone, so he can make sure he'll get them right when he needs them. It's more relaxing than he expects it to be, and he appreciates that she doesn't take advantage of it to try and make him discuss anything else. It makes him feel more confident in trusting her. Perhaps that's why, when they're done with the exercise and he's sank comfortably back into the couch, the words slip out of him effortlessly before he's even consciously aware that he's going to talk about it. "I dreamed I was lost." 

"The nightmare?" 

Noct nods. He doesn't know why he's talking about it now—it was stupid and ridiculous and there was _no reason_ for it to upset him—but he doesn't stop. "I was in the woods near Costlemark Tower. Umbra showed up and wanted me to follow him." 

"Umbra?" Dr. Sidra asks, frowning at the unfamiliar name. 

"Lu—" His voice catches, throat tightening on the name. He's thought about her so many times since returning from the Crystal, but he so rarely says her name aloud. Most of the time it's too painful still, too raw, and seeing Umbra in his dream has brought all his memories of her to the forefront of his mind again. If he has to say her name now, he might break down. "A dog," he says instead. "I chased him, but he disappeared. I ran and ran, but I couldn't find him, and then I got lost, and it got dark, and there was no one to help me. A daemon grabbed me and trapped me. I couldn't escape him. He was hurting me—choking me." 

Laying it out like that, reducing it to such simple points, makes him feel even more ridiculous about it, even as he shivers in remembrance of the terror and how real everything had felt, and he's starting to regret bringing it up after all. He'd been grabbed by daemons a million times on their journey, and none of those times had ever given him nightmares. So to be so bothered by something that hadn't actually happened this time... 

Dr. Sidra doesn't laugh, however, or roll her eyes—not that he'd really expected her to, but the brushing off of a stupid nightmare he _is_ expecting doesn't come. "It sounds like your dream perhaps has some parallels to your waking life." 

Noct frowns, not seeing the connection. Grabbed by a mindflayer, sure, but he'd never gotten lost in the woods, never chased after Umbra quite like that, and how would she know anyway? "What do you mean?" 

"You haven't discussed them with me, or named them, but on your intake form you indicated you were dealing with several symptoms of mental illness, yes?" At Noct's hesitant nod, she continued on. "I imagine at times you've felt lost and alone with no one to help, perhaps trapped by and unable to escape the symptoms you are suffering from. Perhaps you feel that no matter how much you keep trying to reach that seemingly elusive point of 'getting better,' you never will." 

So the mindflayer was a tangible manifestation of his mental illness? How fitting. And obvious, now that she's pointed it out. He should have made the comparison himself. He doesn't understand how she's _not_ finding him pathetic. 

"Dreams sometimes bring out the thoughts and feelings that we try to avoid when we're awake," Dr. Sidra adds, and her quiet, compassionate tone tugs at Noct's heart, overwhelming him with the sudden urge to start sobbing. He manages not to, but it's a tough battle to win. In just a few sentences, she's hit at the root of his biggest fears, understanding in a way that Ignis hasn't seemed to. It's new to him, to have someone get it so completely and not judge him for it, and he doesn't know how to deal with all the feelings that brings. 

"Ignis tries his best to help me," he says, swallowing down the threatening emotions that are still bubbling up in him. 

"I sense a 'but' in that statement." 

Noct turns his head, briefly wiping at the hint of wet in the rims of his eyes. "It makes me feel worse sometimes." He's speaking just above a whisper, the words too shameful for him to say any louder. "He wants me to get better so badly, but I never do. I'm not sure I will." He swallows again, hard, glancing up to see her face. "I can't be the good boyfriend he needs me to be." 

She looks a little surprised at the admission of the true nature of his relationship with Ignis, but he doesn't see any hint of disgust, and to her credit she doesn't let his reveal distract her from the true topic at hand. "Mental illness can be hard on relationships," she says, matching his quiet tone. "It can create a lot of pressure on both people. I imagine he feels the need to always be supportive of you and to say and do all the right things, even if he doesn't know them. And you, perhaps, have felt pressured to do therapy more for him than for yourself, to get better as fast as possible because you feel that's what he needs?" 

He slumps forward, resting his elbows on his legs as he buries his face in his hands, taking a few deep breaths, trying to keep the tears at bay. How can she understand so well, with so little said? "I want therapy for myself too," he says, lifting his head. "I'm just—I'm not ready to talk about most of it yet." 

"And that's fine. I don't expect you to come in and immediately start spilling all your innermost secrets. Most of my patients don't; it's normal. Therapy is not a fast process. It takes time to build trust and the level of comfort needed to open up—and even if you don't feel it, you are making progress. You can come in here without panicking now, and what you've told me today, you never would have even considered saying at the first session. Yes?" 

"Yeah," he mumbles. 

"Then when you're feeling that pressure, remind yourself of this," she says. "It's important to make progress, but only at your own pace, not anybody else's. You're doing fine, Noctis." 

He's quiet on the ride home later, going back over the session in his head. Though it still isn't much, in the grand scheme of things, he'd been more open than he'd first intended at the start, and he's left now with a sense of small pride and, strangely enough, a feeling of exhaustion. He's felt so many different emotions in the past hour, and it's more wearying than he'd realised. 

"Did everything go well?" Ignis asks, and Noct can't hold back his sigh at the usual question. He's so tired of hearing it, so sick of feeling pressured to answer it, and so fed up with not knowing if the pressure is justified—would Ignis not mind if Noct asked him to stop with the question? Is it really prying if Ignis doesn't expect any more than a simple yes or no? Why does it bother him this much? 

"It was fine," he says, but he can't quite keep the irritation out of his tone. 

He expects Ignis to drop it anyway, as he usually does, but instead there's a hesitant pause, and then Ignis says, "Are you certain? You seem upset." 

Noct bristles. Is Ignis going to make this a habit as well, to drop things when Noct seems okay, but push when he's upset? He'd called Ignis out on it before, but he doesn't want to be forced to do that every time Ignis gets curious or worried. Just the thought of it is tiring. But he definitely isn't willing to go into details about his sessions either. And he feels bad that he makes Ignis worry at all. "We talked about some hard things," he eventually answers, hating the guilt that curls up with it. Technically, he's being honest, but he knows Ignis is going to interpret as being bigger and more serious than it was, and that makes it still feel like a lie. 

"Ah," Ignis says. "I understand. I know this is hard on you, but I assure you it will be worth it in the end. Therapy will certainly help you, and I'm very proud of you for giving it another chance and confronting your problems." 

He means it as encouragement and praise, Noct knows, but instead it makes him feel even worse. Dr. Sidra had said to remember he's doing fine, and he believes her, but he's already led Ignis on—how is he supposed to backtrack and admit he's barely made any progress at all, that he hasn't yet really started to confront his problems? And Ignis won't see it Dr. Sidra's way, he's sure—there will be more accusations of not trying hard enough, of not giving it a real chance, they'll fight again and it will be a big mess... He can't deal with that. But he hates feeling all this guilt and pressure too. 

Ignis follows him up to his rooms when they get back to the Citadel, wanting to cuddle with him on the couch—probably to comfort him, not realising that he's the reason Noct is even upset. Noct would rather curl up on his bed and wallow in his misery, but he doesn't want Ignis to worry even more, so he settles himself up against Ignis' side, pulling out his phone to browse around on the internet. His usual sites fail to distract him, but the weight of Ignis' body next to his is comforting, even if Ignis is the cause of his negative mood. 

Sighing, he sets his phone aside and presses in even closer to Ignis, resting his head against Ignis' shoulder as he slides an arm across his lap, curling his fingers around Ignis' hip. Ignis' skin is warm and smooth, and without conscious thought Noct starts lightly trailing his fingers in small circles. Beneath his fingers, Ignis tenses, shifting his hip away some. Noct's stomach drops, and he snatches his hand back as if he'd been burned. "Sorry," he mumbles. 

Ignis lowers the book he'd been reading, shaking his head. "There is no need to be. It is simply that I cannot be certain of your motives at the moment, knowing that your therapy was difficult." 

"Right," Noct says, but Ignis' words have made him angry, and he pulls away completely, huddling up on the other end of the couch. He's angry because not only is Ignis once again offering him an excuse to not have sex, but because Ignis is _right_. He's not in the mood, he's not feeling aroused in the least, he's just feeling bad and wants something that will make him feel good. Having sex for that reason is exactly why Ignis won't let Noct touch him anymore. Ignis doesn't trust him now, and Noct's starting to wonder if he ever will again. 

* * *

"It's been over three weeks since you've had a panic attack, were you aware?" 

"Has it?" Noct asks, even as his stomach twists uncomfortably. 

Ignis leans in closer, letting his head rest gently against Noct's. "It has. You're doing so well, Noct. Only a month and a half of therapy, and you've come so far already. I'm happy for you." 

Noct squeezes his eyes shut in shame. He'd had a panic attack just three days ago. Some of the people Ignis had selected to take back their old positions in the government had arrived to the Citadel, and Noct had needed to be there to greet them and discuss things... people he'd seen in and about the palace his entire life, and like always it had been a disorienting slam to the past. He'd spent the entire meeting trying not to let on to anyone that he was dissociating, and as soon as he'd been alone, his distress had overwhelmed him, a panic attack hitting him at full force before he could even think to do his breathing exercise. 

Ignis had come looking for him, but he'd lied. At the time, he'd not been sure if Ignis had believed him, but now—now Ignis has no idea, and his own dishonesty hurts him too much to keep it up. There's not just happiness in Ignis' voice, not even just pride—there's _relief_. He truly thinks Noct is getting better, and he's relieved to not have that burden anymore, and he has no idea that Noct has barely opened up about anything, that he's still struggling as much as ever. He's had two more weeks of sessions, and every time he lets Ignis think they went great, that he talked and made progress, but he hasn't at all. 

Noct swallows, the sudden lump in his throat painful. He'd been so worried about not getting better or disappointing Ignis that he let his fear lead him to lying, and it's snowballed quicker and bigger than he'd expected, and now he's in this mess of guilt, constantly feeling pressure to do things for Ignis, because he thinks it's what Ignis needs, but it's not what _he_ needs. Noct's not doing the things for himself that he needs to get better and feel comfortable talking about, and he's never going to get anywhere if he keeps going on like this. 

He has to tell the truth—but Ignis is shifting, slipping into his lap and Noct can feel his dick, he's fucking aroused, now, after all this time, and his mouth is latching onto Noct's neck, sucking hard—fuck, Astrals, it feels good, why _now_ —and Noct's tempted to let it happen, to do as he always does and shove everything away just to feel good in the moment, but he'd be the worst sort of person if he did that, and no matter how tempting, he _can't_ — 

"Ignis—Ignis, wait—" 

Ignis stops, sitting back up, a slight frown marring his face. "Is everything alright?" 

Noct squirms, somehow managing to scoot out from under him. There's a sick feeling in his stomach and acid burning his throat, he doesn't want to do this, but as long as he feels that he has to do it for Ignis, and not himself— "No," he says. He brings his feet up onto the couch, pulling his legs close to his body, wrapping his arms around himself—for comfort, or protection, or defense. He doesn't know. It doesn't matter. He feels vulnerable, and horrible, and so tired of lying. It's an impulse decision, but he doesn't want to think it through. "Ignis, I can't do this anymore." 

"Do what?" 

"This... us. The way we're going." 

"I'm not certain what you mean," Ignis says, but Noct can see the way he's shrinking back into the couch, his back pressing against the arm of it, trying to put even more distance between himself and Noct. He's scared of what Noct means, and Noct thinks he's going to be sick. He doesn't want to hurt Ignis like this, but if he only tells the truth and nothing more, it doesn't really solve his problem. He'll still feel obligated to do his best for Ignis, for the sake of their relationship. 

Noct lets out a shaky breath. "I'm not doing better. I had a panic attack three days ago. I spent that whole meeting in a state of dissociation. I've been hiding it from you, Specs." 

"Why?" Ignis asks, and he sounds stunned, and hurt, and _fuck_ Noct hates himself right now. 

"Isn't this what I always do?" His tone's bitter and self-deprecating, and he regrets it when Ignis turns his head away, his fists clenching in his lap, curling up tight into the fabric of his pants. "It's—it's just too much pressure. You want me to be better, and I want that too..." It's hard, so much harder than he thought it would be, his throat's closing up and his chest is so tight it hurts, but he has to get the words out. He has to do this for himself, no matter how much he doesn't want to. "I know you said I'm not a burden, but _I_ feel like I'm one, and I don't want to disappoint you by taking forever to get better, if I even can." 

"How long it takes you doesn't matter to me, Noct," Ignis says. There's desperation in his voice, and it makes Noct want to reach out, to grab him and hold on to him in some way, but he knows he doesn't deserve that anymore, and there's tension in every line of Ignis' body, his muscles rigid—he'd never accept comfort right now. "I truly mean what I said, you are not a burden, and I never expected this to be easy." 

"It's too much," Noct says, flushing when his voice cracks on the words. His throat's caught on a sob, but he doesn't want to cry. "Even if you don't mean to, or you're not aware, you're expecting more than I can give right now..." 

"Do you wish to break up, is that what you're telling me?" 

The words make him want to throw up, but he's selfishly relieved that Ignis said them first. He'll hate himself for being a coward, but he wasn't sure he could bring himself to get the words out. "Not permanently," he says quietly. "But it seems unfair to ask you to wait for me. So, I guess... yeah." He exhales heavily after he says it, biting down hard on his lip as he waits for Ignis' reaction. 

"I see," Ignis says, and it's unnerving how suddenly calm his voice is. Only moments ago he was upset and desperate, but now Noct can't tell what he's thinking. 

"Is that—is that okay?" 

"A break-up needs only one person desiring it. I have no say in the matter." 

Noct doesn't like how cold the words are, how non-reactionary Ignis is being now, but there isn't much he can do about it. This is what he wanted. Not forever, and he hopes Ignis will feel that way too eventually, but he supposes Ignis has the right to react however coldly he needs right now. "I don't want it to be forever," he says, wanting Ignis to understand that point if nothing else, "I just—I need to do this for myself. I need space, Specs." 

"I understand," Ignis says, getting to his feet. His movements are stiff, and a little uncoordinated, as if his body's acting on an autopilot it's not quite used to. He crosses the room, turning in Noct's direction once he reaches the doorway. "I'll leave you to your space." The last word's an angry snarl, his lip curling up in disdain, and then he's gone, the door shutting firmly behind him. 

Noct stares after him, feeling painfully empty, and then the first sob breaks loose. 

* * *

"Hey. Hey, Noct. Wake up." 

Noct groans. Gladio's poking him, and he's not sure why. He also feels terrible, and he's not sure why for that either. His throat feels shredded and sore, and his eyes are aching and gritty. He feels absolutely exhausted, on par with the days the Crystal was still draining his life force dry. "Go away," he mumbles. 

"Can't. Something's wrong with Iggy," Gladio says, and Noct bolts upright, the memory of last night's conversation coming back to him even as Gladio continues on, "He's crying and he won't get out of bed. Prompto tried getting him to talk, but he yelled for him to get out and then threw a pillow at Prompto... It ain't like him. We're worried, and hoping you know what's wrong." 

Noct opens his mouth to answer, but instead a sob comes out as the gravity of what he's done to him and Ignis starts sinking in. 

"Aw hell," Gladio says on a sigh, pushing Noct aside to sit down on the edge of the bed. "You guys get in a fight?" 

Swallowing down the rest of his sobs, Noct takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. He knows now why his throat and eyes hurt so much—he'd spent the majority of the night crying, until his body was too exhausted to keep him awake any longer. "I broke up with him," he chokes out, and the stunned, disbelieving look on Gladio's face makes him want to sob again. 

"Why?" 

Noct shrugs. His reasons had seemed so clear last night, when he'd been drowning in guilt and self-loathing, but now he's second-guessing it, wondering if he should have sucked it up and continued to let Ignis think he was better. He would have felt like shit, but that's not anything new. Now he's opened his mouth, and there's no going back from it. He's possibly lost Ignis for good, not just as a boyfriend, but as a friend and advisor as well. "I don't know," he says, and gives in and lets the sobs come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides behind Gladio*
> 
> don't murder me, if you murder me you won't get the rest of the fic!!
> 
> oh and as always thanks for all the kudos, comments, and faves. you guys are awesome and I love you <3 please feel free to yell at me in the comments for this chapter.
> 
> This chapter now has an accompanying side scene [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17033568/chapters/41692958).


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaah sorry this took me so long! I got really swamped with moving the last half of december, and then this chapter has just been a _bitch_ to write. but I finally got it done, nearly 7K words, so I hope you guys enjoy \o/
> 
> also this has nothing to do with anything and doesn't belong here but I'm going to a distant worlds concert on the 22nd (I guess it relates a little, definitely don't expect the next chapter before then haha) and I just wanted to share my excitement because I have wanted to go to one for probably about ELEVEN YEARS faslfgjaskfgjal that is all
> 
> ~~oh and yes I upped the chapter count by one more again don't judge me~~

"You plannin' on spendin' the day in bed again?"

Noct doesn't bother to respond. He's already spent two days in bed; Gladio should know the answer to that without having to ask. 

Gladio sighs, going over to the window to open up the curtains. Sunlight floods the room, its cheery rays brightening up even the darkest of corners and chasing away the atmosphere of gloom that's settled over everything. Noct stays silent, but drags the comforter up over his head. "Noct, this ain't healthy," Gladio says, his heavy footsteps approaching the bed. Noct curls his fingers into the blanket, accurately predicting Gladio's intention to yank it off him. They struggle for a moment, but Noct has little energy and accepts his loss quickly. 

"I know you're upset, but you can't indulge in your misery all day. You need to get up, get outta the bed. Go for a run with me, or do some stretches. It'll help a little." 

Yeah. Exercise is Gladio's cure for everything. It's mostly bullshit, but Noct's usually willing to indulge him, if only to get Gladio off his back. Too bad he's not in the mood this time. It takes what little energy he has left, but he manages to roll over, putting his back to Gladio even though it means facing the sunny window. 

Unfortunately, Gladio's already rounding the bed to the opposite side before Noct even gets settled. "Why are you this upset anyway?" Gladio asks, frowning down at him. "Aren't you the one that dumped Iggy?" 

"Fuck off," Noct snarls, a bit of fire coming into his voice. He musters up his darkest glare, which must be pretty decent, because Gladio actually takes a step back, an uneasy look briefly crossing his face. He's not even sure why the question makes him so angry. Gladio's right, he is the one who broke it off, and yet... 

It isn't what he wants. It's the morning of the third day and he hurts so bad he can't stand it. There's a non-stop tightness in his chest that makes it hard to breathe; he's constantly drawing deep breaths and feeling his lungs catch. His eyes ache so bad it's painful to keep them open, and that's as much exhaustion as it is crying. His stomach persists in maintaining an unceasing state of anxiety, leaving him endlessly on the verge of throwing up. 

He _misses_ Ignis, misses him so fiercely that he'd rather die than keep facing this heartache. Their relationship hasn't been great lately, yeah, but he still spends so much of his days with Ignis, either actually trying to do things for the kingdom or just to be near him and take comfort in his presence. Now that's gone, and he feels lost, and though part of him feels like it was the right choice for himself, another part can't help but second-guess the decision. Not only is he hurting, but he knows Ignis is too, and he doesn't know if this pain is worth it for either of them. 

From what little Prompto has said—more to Gladio than to him, really—Ignis hasn't gotten out of bed either. That hurts so much worse than simply missing Ignis, because Noct never wanted to hurt him like this. He wanted this to be a temporary break, not an actual break up, but he has no right to ask that of Ignis, and from the way Ignis has reacted, Noct feels pretty sure he's ruined things between them forever. And he wanted to get better, but if Ignis isn't there by his side once he is, what is the point? 

Noct doesn't want a life without Ignis in it. Not even necessarily romantically, although these past few days have made him realise that _yes_ , he _does_ want that very much. That day, that terrible day when Ignis had first said _I love you_ —he's never said it back, because he's never been sure. He thinks he is now, and though that's possibly gone forever, to not have Ignis there at _all_ , even just as a friend... 

"I shouldn't have said that," Gladio says with a sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed. Noct simply looks at him, not having realised he hadn't left. It takes him a moment to recall Gladio's words, and when he does his throat closes up in grief. "You must have had a good reason," Gladio continues, "but it's obvious it ain't what you _wanted_..." 

"Shut up," Noct says, and it's hard to force the words out when he wants to break down and sob, but he doesn't want to hear this, definitely doesn't want to talk about it, and would prefer if Gladio just left him alone. He squeezes his eyes shut, face scrunching up slightly as he tries not to fall apart. He's already broken down in front of Gladio more times than he cares to admit, he doesn't want to add to that. 

When he opens his eyes, Gladio's gaze is directly on him, full of concern. "Look, I'm not good with all this talking about feelings and stuff, but if you need—" 

"No," Noct says quickly, interrupting him. He doesn't know how to untangle this in his own head, so he's not going to attempt to do it for someone else, and certainly not for Gladio, who's even worse with emotional talks than he is. 

There's no response to that, but Gladio doesn't leave. Noct closes his eyes again, wishing he had the energy to roll back over. He wants to be alone—to sleep, to cry, to stare numbly ahead as he tries not to think about Ignis pulling away from him on the couch the other night, knowing what was coming and _physically_ trying to escape it. The memory's a sharp pang, and he sucks in a breath, his lungs aching when he can't get a full one. 

"I'm worried about you." 

"'m fine," he mumbles automatically, but they both know he isn't at all. And if Gladio's being blunt, he's edging past worried into scared, and Noct can't deal with that on top of everything else. 

"I don't wanna come in here and find you half-dead again. Or—or worse." 

The obvious stumble in Gladio's voice would normally send guilt spiralling through Noct. Right now, however, he hurts too much to even care. "You won't," he says. He _has_ thought about it a few times, but he doesn't have the energy to try anything. And despite everything, part of him isn't sure if suicide is still what he wants. There's a lingering appeal in it, part of him _does_ still want to sleep forever, but... what he wants more than that is to get better. For _himself_. That's why he's done this, isn't it? Because he can't do it for himself if he feels pressured by Ignis' fear and desperation for him. 

And maybe, if he gets better, he'll have a chance of being with Ignis again. Assuming Ignis can ever forgive him—not that he deserves it. 

Gladio's phone chimes, and a moment later he lets out a quiet curse, hauling himself up and off the bed. "Cor needs me," he says, and then hesitates. "I'm still your Shield. If you need me more—" 

"No." 

"I'll be back in a few hours. With some food. You need to eat at least." 

Noct wants to tell him not to bother, but it's too much effort. So he says nothing, and after another uncertain moment Gladio takes his leave, shutting the door slowly behind him, his reluctance obvious. Noct waits a few minutes to be sure he's gone, and then buries his face in his pillow. 

* * *

"It's snowing," Gladio says. 

Noct gives a small grunt. He's aware. The sun coming through his window is extra bright, glinting off all that whiteness outside. The snow's piled up thick, covering everything in sight, and the bare branches of the trees in the garden below are sagging, suffocating under the unexpected heavy weight. Snow is still falling too, big, fluffy-looking flakes swirling in small flurries throughout the sky, gently drifting down to continue blanketing the ground. 

Ignis has always loved the snow. It's rare in Insomnia; the region of Cavaugh isn't quite the deserts of Leide, but temperatures rarely run cold enough for snow. It never comes more than once or twice a year, if that. Noct himself has never been fond of the snow—too cold and too wet—but when they were kids he would usually let Ignis talk him into going out and playing in it. Ignis had enjoyed building snowmen, and Noct would gather up great big armfuls of snow for him, hating how the front of his coat always got soaked, but pleased by the happy smile on his friend's face at the help. 

When it got too cold for Noct to stand it any longer, they'd go back in the palace, the tips of their noses and ears reddened with the cold, shivering in their wet clothes. They'd be ushered back to Noct's rooms to change, and then brought hot cocoa to warm them up. Ignis had always looked so blissful, hunched over in front of Noct's fire, his hands wrapped around his mug, shivering as he tried to get warm, the happy smile from earlier still stretching from cheek to cheek. It always made the discomfort of the snow worth it to Noct. 

He wonders if Ignis wants to go out in it today. He'd left his bed yesterday to hole up in his office and throw himself into work, at least that's what Noct had overhead Prompto telling Gladio. Maybe he's there now, staring unseeing out the window, his mind replaying the same memories as Noct's. If Noct hadn't dumped him, would Ignis have tried to convince him to go out and enjoy the snow? 

"Noct. You—you know what day it is, yeah?" 

Swallowing at the unsure question, Noct turns his head away from the window, closing his eyes as they grow hot with unshed tears, his chest and throat tightening with regret. He's aware of that too, and wishes Gladio would go away and stop reminding him of painful things. The constant checking up on him is as bad as it was in the days after his attempt, and like then Noct just desperately wants to be left alone. "I know," he says, because Gladio seems to be waiting for an actual answer. 

It's Ignis' birthday. He's thirty-three. Another year behind him, ten of which Noct wasn't there for. He didn't expect to add an eleventh year to that count. They'd had plans, nothing fancy, but he hadn't given a single thought to them, or how close Ignis' birthday was, when he decided to break it off. He's not sure he would have cared enough to wait, if he had. 

It makes him feel like the worst person in the world. Selfish and spoiled, a pampered prince who always has to get his own way and never considers anyone else. People used to whisper things like that behind his back. It upset him—he can concede to having been spoiled, perhaps, and he liked getting his own way when possible, but selfish? Not taking anyone else into consideration? He hadn't thought so, but maybe they'd seen something in him then that he hadn't. After all what kind of person would dump their partner only a week before their birthday? 

He wonders, not for the first time, if he made the right choice. 

Gladio clears his throat, shifting in the armchair he'd dragged in from Noct's sitting room. He's spent half of his free time the past few days sitting there, messing around on his phone or texting Prompto, keeping Noct silent company until his worry gets the better of him and he has to verbally check on how Noct's doing. It's driving Noct crazy, but at the same time it _is_ kind of nice to have someone else there with him, offering quiet support, and it keeps him from completely breaking down and losing his mind as his thoughts continuously circle around in it. "I know he won't see you, but if you got something you want me to give him... He doesn't have to know it's from you, yeah?" 

"I don't have anything," he says, because Ignis had said he wanted only to spend the day with Noct, and now he's gone and ripped that away. The one thing Ignis asked for, and Noct can't even give him that much. It hurts too fucking much, and he bites down on his lip, hard, trying to make the pain into something tangible he can deal with. 

It doesn't work, everything about him aches, and the world drifts away from him as lazily as the snow drifts through the air. He's dissociated so much this week that he's almost become numb to it, but he's no more fond of the sensation than he was when it first began happening. It makes him miss Ignis even more, because even if he wasn't being honest with him, Ignis' presence still _helped_. And now that's gone too, and he'll have to figure out how to deal with this on his own, but he has no more idea of that than he did at the start either. 

He wants to talk to Dr. Sidra. The need hits him out of nowhere, and it feels weird, because he's never _wanted_ to talk to her before, but right now he's lost and hurting and doesn't know how to fix it. He doesn't want these feelings but Ignis isn't an option, and neither are Prompto or Gladio, despite their offers. They're too close to the situation, they'd judge without meaning to, and he doesn't want to make them take sides, or force them to take up the bulk of the burden in dealing with his issues that had fallen to Ignis. 

She won't judge him. She'll sit there calmly and let him talk out whatever he needs, help him sort through the things that run on an endless loop in his brain, and never once make him feel like he's a terrible person. She won't get frustrated or worried, and if she asks him questions that are too painful for him to discuss, she won't press the issue. Unlike his friends. 

And he can't keep this inside. Not this. It's too big, there's too many emotions, and it's tearing him apart with guilt and regret and sorrow wondering if he made the right decision. Wondering if there's ever a chance of Ignis forgiving him. Wondering if it's worth it to him to at least get better, if there's not. 

"Uh, you're bleeding," Gladio says, and Noct realises he's torn half the skin off his lower lip. He wipes at it with his finger, and then looks blankly at the bit of blood that comes back. Gladio sighs and gets up, disappearing into his bathroom before coming back with some toilet paper. 

"Thanks," Noct mumbles, and cleans his finger before dabbing at his lip. 

"You wanna talk?" 

"Not to you," Noct says, crumpling the toilet paper into a little ball. 

"Ah." Gladio sits back down, rubbing at his neck. "I can get Prompto..." 

Noct shakes his head, looking away from him. He's silent a moment, and then says, quietly, "My therapist." 

"You got an appointment soon?" 

"Cancelled it." It's not too late to call now and make another one, though. But making one will mean having to get out of bed and face the world again, and he's not sure he feels together enough for that. And Ignis always went with him to Lestallum... 

"Here." Gladio's shoving Noct's phone into his face, frowning at him. "Call. And quit destroying your lip. Hurting yourself isn't gonna help anything." 

Reddening at being called out, Noct takes the phone from him, looking up the office number in his contacts. Fifteen minutes later, he's got an appointment and a promise from Prompto to go with him. 

* * *

"So what's new in the life of Noctis?" Dr. Sidra offers him a smile as he settles himself into his favourite spot on the couch. 

Noct shrugs. Though he still wants to talk, he feels awkward about doing so, and has no idea where to start. "A lot," he mumbles, remembering she prefers verbal answers. 

"I was concerned when I saw you cancelled your appointments last week." 

"I didn't want to get out of bed..." he admits. 

"Uh-oh. Would you like to tell me about it?" 

He starts to bite down on his lip automatically, then catches himself and stops. His lip is a raw, sore mess and he doesn't need to make it any worse. "Ignis and I broke up," he forces himself to say, but his throat's tight and his eyes hot, and it takes a few breaths before he feels confident he's not going to cry. 

Her smile falls completely, sympathy replacing it. "I'm sorry to hear that," she says. "Your idea or his?" 

"Mine." 

She's quiet, waiting to see if he has anything else to say, and it takes him a few minutes to gather up his thoughts and remind himself that he _wants_ to talk, but eventually more words come, if somewhat haltingly. "I think... I don't know if I did the right thing." 

"Talk me through your reasoning," she says then, and he does. At least the immediate reasoning—describing the poor state of their relationship the past couple of months because of his stupid behaviour would take more time than he has, and that's an even bigger mess he doesn't know how to start tackling. "I see," she says once he's stumbled his way through an explanation. 

"I keep thinking I messed up," he says, finding himself gnawing at his lip again. "I know he was only worried..." His voice falters. Laying it out as he does—admitting he'd lied to Ignis, and then more or less blamed _him_ for the lies and dumped him because of it makes him hate himself even more, and he feels an overwhelming desire to crawl back into his bed and never leave it again. The guilt and pressure were suffocating, but he should have found some way to suck it up and deal with it. 

She leans forward some in her chair, crossing her legs as she meets his eyes, a serious but earnest expression on her face. "I can't truly tell you if you made the right choice, Noctis. If it's worth it enough to you... that's something only you can decide. But for what it is worth, I don't believe you did anything wrong in asking for a halt, whether it ends up temporary or not. I'll remind you of what I said in a previous session. Mental illness can be very hard on relationships. Needing to put yourself first sometimes in order to get better is valid, especially when the relationship is becoming more harmful than helpful." 

"I hurt him." It's almost a non-sequitur, but it's all he can focus on. Does he really have the right to put himself first, if it hurts Ignis? It's what's making him second-guess himself so much—he knew it would hurt Ignis, but didn't realise how deeply, and he didn't expect to hurt this much himself. He'd just known that he couldn't keep going on the way he was. It was holding him back and getting him nowhere, and did their relationship no favours; it felt unfair to keep dragging all his issues into the relationship when it was clear it was breaking it. 

"Understandable. I know it can't have been easy to do, or deal with after the fact. But I would wager you hurt yourself just as much. Though the relationship has ended, it's clear your feelings for him haven't." 

The words make him ache, dredging up every emotion he's been feeling the last week. "I want—" Noct stops, feeling the familiar catch in his lungs as he tries to take a deep breath. He feels on the verge of a breakdown, and he's starting to dissociate. He's not numb to it this time, he feels like he's existing in nothing, he's not real, and it's making him feel sick. Dr. Sidra's saying something else, something more about relationships and doubting, but he's not listening. He sinks his teeth into his lip, ripping at freshly formed skin, and puts his palms flat against the cushions of the couch, disliking how he seems to both feel them and _not_ feel them at the same time. 

"Noctis?" 

He ignores her, looking down at where his hands meet the cushions, but though he can see how they're touching, it all feels so far, _too_ far, and he hasn't been this distressed in a while, but he feels exposed and vulnerable and only barely together and the sensations of dissociation feel magnified tenfold at the moment and he doesn't want this to be happening, not now, not here— 

"Noctis." 

"I want—" he says again. He looks down at his feet, firm against the floor, and wishes they weren't dangling over empty space. Last week, he'd wanted to get better more than he wanted to give up and die. Now... it's the opposite. And that scares him how easily it can change, but it also makes him want to change it back again, because... because there's enough of him still that _doesn't_ want to die, and despite how talking about the breakup has made him feel, despite all his doubts, if he's honest with himself he thinks those doubts exist mostly because he _does_ believe he made the right choice, and it hurts to face that. 

"Can you talk to me? Tell me what's happening with you right now." 

"I'm dissociating," he says, the words slipping out before he can think about them, and barely a heartbeat goes before the next ones spill out. "I want to get better, but I can't if I have to worry about doing it for him. We could have talked about it, but it wouldn't have changed anything. We'd both promise to do better and then end up going on as we have been. It was the right choice and it makes me want to die and I hate it." 

It's the most open he's been so far, and he feels awkward and embarrassed, the dissociation overwhelming as he presses back into the couch, just trying to make _something_ connect, but at the same time he also feels like a bit of a weight has been lifted from him. It's relieving in a way he hadn't expected, and it eases the hurt some. 

Dr. Sidra takes a breath, absently tucking her hair behind her ear. "That's... a lot to unpack," she says carefully, and Noct gets the sense that she's at a loss on what to start with first. She quickly rallies though, and starts with what he figures is probably the most concerning to her. "When you say it makes you want to die—" 

"I'm not going to try anything again," he says quickly, interrupting her, and it's not until she says "Again?" with clear worry in her voice that he even realises he's tacked that word on—habit from having to reassure his friends. Fuck. "I—I don't want to talk about it," he says as he folds his arms across his chest, trying to gain back some semblance of control over his thoughts, because he's said so much more than he'd intended when he first walked in nearly forty minutes ago. 

"Okay. That's your right, Noctis. I'm not going to make you." 

"You don't have to tell anyone?" 

"That you're having suicidal feelings?" she asks, and at his tentative nod continues on. "No. Not unless you tell me that you're intending to immediately act on them. Then I am required to intervene." 

"I'm not. Effy needs me." It feels a little silly, to want to live for his cat more than his friends, but it's still his biggest reason. She depends on him, and wouldn't have any way of understanding if he was suddenly gone. And though his friends like her, and would take care of her, he doesn't think any of them would love her the way that he does. 

She smiles briefly. "Cats are a good reason to keep living." 

The topic's still too close to the things he doesn't want to discuss, so he latches on to the only other part there is, desperately needing the last few minutes of this session to be light-hearted and inconsequential. He needs a sense of equilibrium, and in here that's closing off and not talking about the things that matter. "Do you have cats?" 

She relaxes back in her chair as she smiles again, wider this time, seeming to sense he's done with the serious talking. "I do. One. Her name's Muffin. She's a bluish-grey cat with a small white patch around her neck." 

"Muffin?" He tries not to make a face, but he must not succeed, as she laughs softly. 

"My son named her as a toddler, after his favourite food at the time." 

He can't argue against that sound reasoning. "Effy's for—a friend." He swallows, sadness washing over him at the thought of Luna. 

"It's a good name." 

When Noct leaves five minutes later, he's in a strange mood. He's still dissociating, but it's not as intense, and he's torn between grief for Luna and grief for Ignis. He also feels self-conscious at talking so much, but somehow better for it as well. Prompto drives them home, because Noct feels comfortable enough admitting to him that he's dissociating. And maybe Noct's testing his best friend a little too, seeing if he's going to pry like Ignis. 

He doesn't, however—just takes the keys agreeably and winds them slowly down the roads out of the city, and spends the trip home talking about all the pictures of the snow he wants to take before the temperature heats up later in the week and "it all melts into nothing, Noct! Do you know how long it's been since I've gotten pictures of snow in Insomnia?" Immediately after he winces, likely realising the potentially upsetting nature of his question. "Sorry, buddy. But will you come with me? I know I can get some wicked pictures." 

"I—yeah." Noct still wants to huddle up in his bed and hide away from the world, but facing the fact that he feels he made the right choice has made things feel a little less bleak, even if it still hurts, and he needs to start accepting it and moving on. If there's a chance of Ignis forgiving him and wanting to still be with him in the future, it's only going to come if he starts getting better. And if it never happens, he'll still have gotten better. For himself. 

* * *

He and Prompto do wander around the snowy streets of Insomnia the next day. Noct's bundled up in as many layers as possible, but he still spends half his time shivering. He doesn't like extreme temperatures on either end of the spectrum—why can't the weather just stay mild all the time? 

Prompto gets a lot of pictures, and Noct even lets him take some of him, though he asks Prompto not to show them to him. He still avoids looking at himself in the mirror, and still struggles with feeling his 'real' age... pictures would probably set him off, especially with the grief-tinged nostalgia he's feeling, remembering once more the times Ignis dragged him out in the snow when they were children. 

He wants to ask how Ignis is doing—Prompto's been watching over Ignis in much the same way Gladio's been watching over him—but he knows the answer won't be anything good. And Ignis has probably asked for nothing to be said to him, anyway. He'd sent a few texts to him, the first couple of days afterwards when his emotions were the worst and he wasn't thinking clearly, apologising and asking Ignis not to hate him. He didn't receive any responses. 

They go down to the open air market, which is still thriving, and meander past the stalls, Prompto snapping pictures of other passersby every now and then. They come upon the stall where Ignis had bought him the carved chocobo figurine, and Noct stops, looking over the new wares. There's a lot of creatures that were once housed in Insomnia's zoo—anaks, garulas, spiracorns... and some intricately carved coeurls that catch his attention. 

As a small child, Ignis had been fascinated by the coeurls in the zoo. It was always the first exhibit he begged to go to, and he could spend hours there if Cor would let him. He'd scoured Insomnia's libraries for any books on coeurls he could find, and would wish for one as a pet. He'd stopped talking about them as he got older, but Noct knows he still adored them. There were paintings of coeurls up in his apartment, and he took every opportunity to wear subtle coeurl-print clothing when he could, even requesting it for his official Crownsguard outfits. 

He reaches out for one of the wooden creatures, wondering if Ignis still likes coeurls after having to fight and kill them, and be nearly killed by them in return at times. "Dude, you still like those overgrown cats?" Prompto asks, making a face. "After all those times we got clawed, and stung by their whiskers?" 

"Ignis likes them," Noct says quietly. 

"Oh." Prompto's face falls. 

Noct looks down at it, turning it over in his hands gently. "Could you give it to him for me? I know he might not accept it, but..." 

"Sure thing." 

"Three hundred gil," the woman selling them tells him, and Noct fumbles in his pocket for the correct notes, handing them over. She takes the coeurl from him and wraps it carefully, sticking it in a small box. "There you go." 

He takes it from her and then passes it off to Prompto. "Thanks." 

They move away, and Noct gravitates to a food stall, the smell of grilled meat awakening his dormant appetite. "Wanna get food?" Prompto nods, and they get in line. 

"Noct... when I give Iggy the coeurl, do you wanna know what he says... or does?" 

"...No," he decides after some consideration. He very much does, but if Ignis rejects it, or breaks it, or scoffs, or tells Prompto to give it back... Noct doesn't think he can handle knowing that. He doesn't even know why he's giving Ignis the figurine. He wants it as some kind of tangible apology for hurting him and ruining his birthday, to let Ignis know he's still thinking about him despite everything, but he doesn't know if that would help Ignis right now or just make him feel worse. 

They get their food and eat, and then wander around some more, closer to the untouched neighbourhoods that Noct had stormed through a couple of months ago. Prompto gets even more pictures, crowing about lighting and angles and all the other photography things Noct has never understood but loves just for the excited flush it puts on his best friend's face. 

They talk, mostly about Prompto's farm project, and about how Prompto wants to ruralise even more of the area and get a chocobo ranch like Wiz's going, because clearly it's a travesty that Insomnia doesn't have any chocobos. Noct's still sad and hurting, but the conversation's a decent enough distraction most of the time. 

"Hey, I wanna get those trees growing up through that building!" Prompto says, pointing in the distance, and Noct nods. They amble over there, and Prompto positions himself to get a good shot. He's just about to take it when the other trees he's below give under their weight, and let loose a shower of snow on him, too sudden for him to react. 

By the time it stops Prompto's fallen to the ground, completely covered and wailing dramatically about his precious camera. Noct gapes in disbelief for a moment, and then practically doubles over in his laughter as Prompto gets up carefully, huge clumps of snow clinging to him in odd places. 

"Shut up! It's not funny!" Prompto snaps, scowling at him as he hangs his camera around his neck and pulls his hat off, shaking snow off it. Noct pulls out his phone and snaps a few pictures, laughing even harder. "Noct! Not pictures!" 

"You look ridiculous!" Noct gasps out amidst his mirth, grinning widely. "Like a sad, scrawny snowman." 

Prompto sniffs haughtily, flailing his arms about to dislodge even more snow. It plops to the ground with a soft crunch. "How rude." 

More laughs escape Noct, and it takes him a minute to calm himself enough to get out his next words. "Me or the snow?" he asks, still grinning. 

"Both," Prompto says, crossing his arms and trying to look affronted. The effect's ruined by the grin slowly creeping across his face, and after a moment he gives in and laughs. "Okay, maybe it is funny." 

Noct approaches him, brushing some snow off his back. "I think that's the universe's way of telling you it's time to go home." 

"Yeah, maybe." Prompto finishes dusting himself off, and they set out for the Citadel. Noct's stomach hurts, but there's also a genuine spark of happiness lodged down in it that makes the ache worth it. 

"...Thanks," Noct says quietly when they're halfway home. 

Prompto cocks his head slightly, a look of confusion on his face as he glances at Noct. "For what?" he asks, but Noct just shakes his head. 

* * *

"Uh, Noct? You alright?" 

"Yeah," Noct says, but he stays in his seat next to Prompto. 

"You heard you can go in now, right?" 

"Yeah," Noct says again. He still doesn't get up. After everything he said in his last session, he's embarrassed. Yeah, so it's the point of therapy, but he doesn't like being so open. And he wasn't anywhere near ready for her to know about his dissociation, or Astrals above, his suicide attempt. He doesn't know if he can bring himself to face her... 

"Did you forget how to walk?" 

Noct frowns at his best friend. "Excuse me?" 

Reaching out, Prompto gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed about, buddy! Our brains all have those moments where they just stop working, even royalty. Here, if you need me to demonstrate—" 

Noct scowls, rolling his eyes. "Shut up," he says, and gets up. Prompto flashes him a grin. 

He goes in and settles into his usual spot, returning Dr. Sidra's greeting without quite meeting her eyes. The familiar hard knot of anxiety is in his stomach, and in his head he's having a mini-crisis. The session's up to him, he knows, but he doesn't know where to take it. He needs to talk and be open, that's why he's here, because he wants to get better, but it's so hard, and he's afraid and ashamed, all the emotions make him want to retreat back into the pointless stuff like his friends and Effy and fishing, he doesn't want to deal with his feelings and the dissociation they bring on— 

"Is there anything in particular you'd like to talk about today?" Dr. Sidra asks, and Noct panics. 

She talks him through the worst of it, and when it's over he slumps back on the couch, floating in a haze of dissociation. He doesn't apologise, because she always tells him it's not necessary. "Noctis, have you ever considered taking any medication to help with your panic attacks?" 

Noct stares at her, and wonders how he's supposed to answer that. 

She seems to mistake his silence for a no, or perhaps just confusion, because she goes on. "There's a few different classes of medication that help to treat anxiety and, for some, depression as well. A psychiatrist would have to be the one to prescribe them, but I think you would benefit from them along with therapy. If you're wary, you could tr—" 

"No," he interrupts. His mouth feels dry suddenly. He licks at his lips and doesn't feel anything. The dissociation keeps him from panicking again. He didn't want to talk about this, but here he is. "I've—" He stops. Swallows. Takes a deep breath. "I've been given Xanax before." 

"Oh, I see," she says, leaning back in her chair. She crosses one leg over the other, absently tapping a pen against her knee. "Well, there's others you can try, if you didn't like that one, or it wasn't very effective—" 

"I took the whole bottle." 

"At once, I'm presuming," she responds after a startled moment. 

A blurry memory: shaking a pill out into his hand and looking down at it before popping it into his mouth and taking a swig of alcohol to wash it down. A few more times, the memory too fuzzy to remember the exact number, and then tipping a small handful onto his palm, thinking _I should have done this sooner_. How many had he taken at the same time? He'd been too disoriented by the end to recall it now, but it had taken less than ten minutes for the bottle to be empty. "Yeah," he says. 

"If you would rather not talk about it, we don't have to. Likewise, we can shelve the discussion of medication for the time being if you're not comfortable with the idea." 

"I'm worried I'd want to try again. If it was there." 

Dr. Sidra nods. "I think that's a valid worry." 

He doesn't understand why, but he feels compelled to explain in a way he never does with Ignis, or his friends. "Most of me doesn't... I want to get better. But... when things are bad... I think about it still," he admits. "Not always pills. But it helps, to just imagine it." He sighs, bringing his legs on the couch and pulling his knees up to his chest. "I know that's weird. And I think, if I had medication, on a bad day, I might. You know. Try." 

"That's called suicidal ideation. It's a common symptom in people who are experiencing depression or anxiety." 

He curls his fingers into his legs, wishing he could feel it. It's the worst part of dissociating—not the disconnect from the world, but the disconnect from his _own body_. It's disorienting in a way that makes him sick. "Can we talk about something else?" 

"Of course," she says easily. "What would you like to discuss?" 

Noct shrugs. He knows he's supposed to talk, that was the deal they'd made, but he's feeling far too vulnerable with how much he's said already, both today and in his previous session, and it's beginning to become overwhelming. He wants to curl up on the couch and shut down completely until his dissociation's gone and his emotions are back to a baseline. Even if actually _talking_ has been easier than usual lately, dealing with all the feelings that come with it is still difficult. 

"I'm afraid my shrug translator is on vacation," she tells him with a teasing tone. "Do you think you could translate for me?" 

_No_ , he wants to say, but the thought of saying even that single word suddenly seems like too much. He shrugs again. 

She studies him for a moment. He's not looking at her, but he can feel her concerned gaze. "Perhaps it would be easier if I talked for awhile?" 

Noct isn't sure what she can talk about without his input, but he nods anyway, curious to know what she has in mind. He presses down deeper into the cushions, angling his body somewhat diagonal as he tips his head to rest against the arm of the couch, preparing to let her words wash over him. He already feels a little more calm just knowing the pressure to talk is off, even momentarily. 

"You mentioned last session that you were dissociating. We haven't yet talked about it, so I'm not certain how exactly you experience it, but much like your panic attacks, there are several grounding techniques that might help you manage the symptoms a little, in lieu of medication. If you don't mind, I can go over some of them now, just to give you an initial idea," she says, and Noct nods his agreement. 

Half an hour later his session's over, and he heads out to Prompto, not yet to his baseline but not quite as overwhelmed. His dissociation's thankfully abated, but he hands the keys over to Prompto anyway, because he feels drained and doesn't trust himself to drive. 

When they get back to the Citadel they part ways, and Noct heads up to his room, pulling off shoes and outer layers of clothes as he walks towards his bed. Effy saunters over to him, curling her tail around an ankle, and he leans over to scoop her up, holding her to him. "Hey, Effy baby," he murmurs to her, closing his eyes briefly as he presses his face against her soft fur. "Bedtime?" 

She trills at him, sensing the vibrations of his voice, and he carries her over to the bed, setting her down near his pillow. He finishes undressing, and then looks at his bed. He's tired, and emotional, and misses Ignis so badly his chest aches. He just wants to huddle together with him, Ignis' body curled around his, holding him as he falls asleep. 

But Ignis is gone now, and Noct has only himself to blame for it, so he crawls into his cold and empty bed and sleeps alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> noct. oh god noct. trying to write him being open and TALKING. hhhhhhhhhhhgh. literally. it feels ooc no matter what. noct. talking about feelings. noooo. a good chunk of the reason why this chapter was a bitch to write. also it feels not angsty enough. that's apparently just me though.
> 
> these notes probably have a weird energy. I accidentally had some caffeine. I avoid caffeine because even the tiniest bit keeps me from sleeping much for a good three days. soooo I've only had a few hours of sleep the past couple of days. oops.
> 
> alsooooooooo. I love all you guys <333 thank you for not murdering me with the last chapter, and I LOVED seeing all the different thoughts and reactions you guys had. please feel free to cry at me about this chapter, either because it makes you sad or because you agree that noct+emotional talking does not mix xD or you know, just... tell me whatever. or offer silent reader support, that's always acceptable too. you guys are awesome <3
> 
> oh, also, if you missed it, I've added a [third fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17033568/chapters/40048724) to the series which is some side scenes that accompany a few different chapters to this fic. A couple were posted in comments here, but a few are new.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have a chapter finally! Just in time for Ignis' birthday~ (or not, depending on what part of the world you're in, but it is for me, which is all that matters in uploading this.) I advise you all to get a snack and/or a nice drink and settle in if you can, because this chapter is long. 11155 in Scrivener, and yes that's three ones. It went over 10K. I could have broken it up, but I didn't want to. For dumb reasons that I'm not gonna share haha. Sorry.
> 
> Props to Alyssa, as he both gave me some of the ideas in the conversation for the first scene, and also looked over the conversation in the next to last scene and gave me all his feels about it. In return I say to him: Gladio's tiddy. **T I D D Y.** The tiddy's appearance can only be inferred, but when you get to that scene, you'll know it's there. Thanks for making me laugh over it for a good three days.

"Dude! Are you listening at all?"

Noct looks up at Prompto through the fringe of his shaggy hair—he's long overdue for a haircut, but at some point he'll be stuck in front of a mirror and asked if he likes it, and he's not willing to go through that yet. "Yeah," he says to his best friend's frown. "Chocobos. Insomnia. Wiz. I'm listening." 

Prompto's frown smooths out into a wide grin. "Right! So Wiz is willing to donate a few chocobos that have already paired off, once we get it built. The problem is actually building it, 'cause it's gonna need a lot of work to clear out enough ground for a good ranch..." 

Noct nods along, letting Prompto's excited enthusiasm wash over him. He tries to pay attention, but he knows he doesn't really need to—he trusts Prompto enough to go along with whatever he comes up with. No one loves chocobos more than his best friend, and he knows Prompto will do right by them with his ranch. Instead he lets his mind wander, glancing over to the door connecting to Ignis' office. 

It's empty. Ignis had left almost as soon as Noct had arrived to his own office earlier in the morning. He's been doing it for a few days now, and though Noct's been trying to ignore it, it hurts. He doesn't have any idea where Ignis goes, but that Ignis doesn't even want to be in the same vicinity as him... It feels like another notch in the 'permanently ruined things with Ignis forever' tally. Noct's been trying to distract himself from his grief by throwing himself into focusing more on his neglected kingdom, but it's hard to keep his mind off things when Ignis' empty office serves as a constant reminder that they're not okay. 

Is it going to always be like this from now on? Ignis avoiding him, deliberately leaving when Noct gets near, their friends constantly struggling to balance between them and not have to pick sides, always being extra careful about bringing up Ignis to him... Noct doesn't want any of that, it's not what he wanted at all. 

But then, he hadn't really thought much about what he wanted beyond not wanting to feel pressured and guilty for lying. He hadn't really taken into consideration how deep this would hurt Ignis,and how it would affect Prompto and Gladio as well. He'd just selfishly gone ahead and done what he wanted, so he can't really complain if this is what he gets in return. 

He sighs to himself, and tries to tune in to Prompto again. 

"—ter Wiz gives them to us we can get them cool Altair outfits and little hidden daggers and make them into proper assassins," Prompto is saying. 

Noct blinks. "What?" He honestly can't tell if Prompto's being serious. Are they still talking about chocobos? "Assassins?" 

"You haven't been listening again," Prompto accuses, pointing a finger at him. 

"Have too," Noct says, his eyes sliding back over to Ignis' office. He feels like it would be easier to accept if he just knew where Ignis _was_. Ignis is avoiding him, and that's... well, it's not _okay_ , but Noct gets it, he probably deserves it, but not knowing where he is and what he's doing—if he's fine, relatively speaking—makes it harder to breathe. He can't stop picturing Ignis off somewhere in an empty, darkened room, crying his heart out, though he knows that's not Ignis' way. 

"He volunteered himself this morning to join Gladio on his Crownsguard patrols for the rest of the week," Prompto says. 

"Who?" Noct tries to look confused, but he knows who Prompto means. It's obvious, and his heart aches at the news. Ignis has never liked patrols. When he'd first joined the Crownsguard, he'd been required to patrol out near the wall with the Kingsglaive a few times, just for field experience, and he'd griped heavily to Noct before and after his shifts. Noct had never quite figured out why—for all his complaints, Ignis had never given a real reason as to why he disliked it. 

Still, he'd made that dislike very clear, so to know he's offering himself up for patrols now... 

Prompto gives him a knowing look. "He said something about trying to build up reputation for the royal family, being more visible to the citizens, being friendly and helping them with any small tasks, and assisting Gladio in fighting off any stray beasts that are still wandering." 

"I wasn't thinking about Ignis," Noct says, but they both know he's lying. "Really," he adds at Prompto's skeptical expression. 

"Uh-huh. I believe you, buddy. So what were you thinking about?" 

"Uh..." Noct casts his mind about for something, _anything_ that isn't Ignis, and can come up with only one topic. "Chocobo assassins." 

It's Prompto's turn to blink. "Huh?" 

Noct gives him a little nod. "No, think about it," he says. "You were right earlier. They'd be perfect. Their unsuspecting target rents one to ride, gets a good way into the woods, and then... well, you can use your imagination." 

The skeptical expression melts away, replaced with one of contemplation. Noct relaxes. "How would a chocobo dispose of the body?" Prompto asks, leaning back in his chair. 

"I dunno. Dig a hole and kick the body in there?" Noct offers, shrugging. 

Prompto frowns. "Can chocobos dig a hole big enough for a body?" 

"Aren't you the chocobo expert?" 

"My knowledge is lacking in chocobo assassins," Prompto says dryly, and for a moment he sounds so much like Ignis that Noct's chest tightens. He pushes it away as Prompto continues. "What if they drown people?" 

Noct considers that. "Be hard to keep them in the water long enough," he says eventually. 

"Chocobos or people?" 

"Both?" 

"What if chocobos have an ability to hold their breath underwater for a few minutes? Dude, how many times did we ride those birds out in the middle of the Vesperpool? All they'd have to do is go under with their rider and the rider would be helpless." 

Noct tips his head, trying to picture it. "They couldn't swim away?" 

"Not if they're being pinned to the lake bed by a ruthless chocobo," Prompto points out, waggling his eyebrows as a grin splits his face, and the absurdity of the conversation suddenly hits Noct, making him laugh. "And what about black chocobos?" Prompto adds. 

"What about them?" Noct asks, amused by how much Prompto's getting into the idea of chocobo assassins. 

"They're so cute! It's perfect!" 

"I don't get it." 

Prompto grins wider, actually bouncing in his seat a little as he leans forward, putting his hands on Noct's desk. "Think about it, buddy! Everyone loves them, no one would ever suspect a black chocobo of being a cold-blooded assassin!" 

Noct shakes his head, smiling. "I'm pretty sure nobody would suspect _any_ chocobo of being an assassin, black feathers or not," he says. 

"But what if—" Prompto's stomach growls loudly, interrupting whatever he was about to say. "Uh... guess I'm hungry," he says, a dark blush spreading across the pale skin of his face. 

"Lunch?" Noct asks, and Prompto nods, leaping up from his chair as he continues to chatter on about innocent looking chocochick assassins. They head out of the office, and Noct can't resist glancing into Ignis' empty one as they pass. He's still hurt by the avoidance, and the lengths Ignis has gone to in order to assure that avoidance, but the silly conversation with Prompto has eased his hurt some, lightening his heart enough to make the rest of the day bearable. 

* * *

"Why later? Why not now?" 

Prompto's voice floats down the hall to Noct as he approaches the training room a few days later, a hint of a whine in his tone. 

"Because I'm sparring with Noct soon. You're welcome to join," Gladio's low voice rumbles in return. Noct reaches the open door and halts outside it in indecision, wondering if he'll be interrupting something again if he goes in now. He's early, and if they're in there doing... things... Noct really has no desire to walk in on that a second time. 

"It'd be a different kind of sparring if I was there," Prompto says, his voice dipping into something husky, and okay, Noct's just going to stand outside by the wall for a few minutes. 

Gladio laughs. "Better not. Noct probably wouldn't appreciate it." 

"He can leave," Prompto says, and then they're both quiet for a moment. Noct waits, but he doesn't hear any... suggestive noises coming from inside the room, so he cautiously peeks his head around the frame, wondering if maybe Prompto's preparing to leave and they're _not_ in there getting up to things. "But a date, tonight?" Prompto says suddenly. "I can take you out?" 

Noct freezes at the words, his head stuck partially through the door. A date? He lets his eyes roam around the room. His friends are by a pillar, and he spots them easily. Prompto's got his back snuggled up against Gladio's chest, and Gladio's arms are wrapped loosely around him. He's dipping his head down as Prompto leans up into him, stealing little kisses from him. "No patrol, so I'm all yours for the evening," Gladio says, and his smile is so happy and affectionate looking that it makes Noct ache. 

Ignis has smiled at him like that so many times, but it's been a month since he's last seen it, and he misses it fiercely. Seeing something similar on Gladio now takes his breath away, a pained yearning filling his chest. He wants that back, wants things to be that sweet and good between him and Ignis again. He moves away, back to the wall, leaning his forehead against it as he closes his eyes. He doesn't want to think about Ignis right now. 

And how long have his friends been dating? Prompto had said they were hooking up but not in a relationship, so that's obviously changed at some point in the last few weeks, but... why hadn't either of them said anything? They're hiding it from him, and he doesn't know why, and it hurts him. Prompto's his best friend. Sure, they keep secrets from each other, but not things like this. Not important relationships, which this one clearly is to Prompto given his near meltdown a couple months ago over not knowing if Gladio wanted to date him. 

"I like the sound of that," Prompto says, tearing Noct's mind from his thoughts, and yeah, that's arousal he's hearing in Prompto's voice, and it makes him redden a little even as he swallows down another pang of grief for the remembered moments between him and Ignis. 

There's more quiet, and then Gladio groans softly. "Fuck—Prompto—not now—Noct's gonna be here soon. Thought we weren't gonna tell him." 

"He's not here yet. And he'll just think we're fooling around still." 

He can't listen to any more of this, and he's not about to stand out here while his friends get it on in there. He takes a deep breath and steps into the doorway. "He is here," he says, startling them both. Prompto jumps, pulling out of Gladio's arms to face him with wide eyes. 

"Noct," Prompto says, putting a hand behind his head and rubbing it sheepishly as a dark blush blossoms across his face. "Hey, buddy... Uh, how long were you there?" 

"Long enough," he says with a frown. "Have fun on your date." 

"Um. Thanks?" Prompto says. His forehead wrinkles as he scrunches up his nose and eyes at Noct, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. "Are you... mad?" 

Noct huffs out a breath, turning to leave. "No, it's perfectly fine when two of my friends start actually dating and hide it from me." 

"Noct, we weren't hiding it—" 

"We were," Gladio interrupts, and there's at least a bit of remorse in his tone, but Noct's got no patience for it. He feels betrayed in a way, and even more hurt, and he just wants to go somewhere away from them right now. 

Prompto flails his hands. "Okay, we were, but not to be mean! Come on, dude, don't leave!" 

"Noct, just wait," Gladio calls, but Noct's through the door, ignoring them both. 

He goes down the hall to the elevator, heading to his room. When he gets there he curls up on the couch, burrowing into the cushions. Effy meanders over to him, jumping up on the arm and butting her head against him with a soft trill. He reaches out and pets her absently, his thoughts still on his friends. It had hurt to see them and be reminded of what he lost with Ignis, but worse is knowing they deliberately kept their changed relationship from him. Why? Did they not trust him enough? Did they think he was going to be petty or spoiled enough to not be happy for them? 

"Am I being stupid?" he mumbles to Effy, scratching behind her ears. Why is he this upset? It's not _really_ his business what his friends' relationship status is or isn't. They have a right to keep it to themselves. It's just that Prompto never has before, although those high school flings probably can't be put on the same level. 

Effy purrs, tipping her head for Noct to scratch under her chin, and he obliges absently. "I missed ten years," he tells her, and that's what's really bothering him. Ten years stuck inside that stupid Crystal, and there's so much he missed, so much he still doesn't know about his friends' lives during that time. He doesn't want to still be excluded from them. 

He sits quietly for awhile, taking some solace in Effy's presence as he tries not to let his upset feelings overwhelm him. He's not distressed or on the verge of a panic attack, but he starts doing one of his breathing exercises, just for practice and in the hopes it might calm his feelings some. 

A knock at his door some time later has him sighing. Gladio. It's too heavy to be Prompto. He should have known one of them would come after him. "Go away," he says, raising his voice enough to be heard. 

"Come on, Noct..." Gladio says. "Just gimme a chance to explain?" 

Noct doesn't really want to right now, but he knows Gladio's going to keep bugging him, so he rolls his eyes and says, "Fine." 

Gladio lets himself in, giving a cautious pat to Effy's head before settling in on the couch. "We were tryin' _not_ to hurt you," he says. 

Noct scoffs at that. "Great job," he says, deadpan. "You really nailed that one." 

Gladio sighs. "Don't be mad at Prompto. It was my idea." 

He doesn't bother to point out that Prompto seemed to have no problem going along with it. "Why even hide it?" 

There's a moment of silence as Gladio shifts uncomfortably beside him, before he clears his throat and speaks. "We weren't trying to keep you out of our life, or anything... We only started dating a few days 'fore you and Iggy broke up. Didn't wanna seem like we were rubbing our relationship in your face, yeah? You took the break up really hard and we wanted to wait for a better time. Guess we just weren't sure when that was." 

Well. He feels like a big jerk now. "Oh," he says, and bites down on his lip. He's still bothered some, but the reasoning makes sense. They _were_ trying to do him a kindness. "Sorry." 

Gladio leans over, nudging his shoulder. "Can you tell Prompto that? I wanna get laid tonight, and I won't if he's still upset about hurtin' you." 

Noct makes a face. "I'm glad getting to stick your dick in my best friend is what you're most worried about." 

Gladio grins. "Other way 'round, Princess." 

"Oh, come on!" Noct says, groaning. "Spare me the details." 

"Prude," Gladio says, but the tone's affectionate. Noct shoves at his shoulder with his own, not bothering to respond. "I do care about him." 

Noct shoves at him again, more gently this time. "I know," he says, because for all Gladio's flirting and sleeping around, he's got a big heart. And Noct knows he'd die before he'd ever even give consideration to using Prompto, for anything. "Go enjoy your date before you start waxing poetic like a sappy rom-com." 

"Never." Gladio gets to his feet, making for the door. He stops just before it, looking back at Noct. "Sorry we hurt you." 

"I'll get over it," Noct says, and Gladio gives him an acknowledging nod before leaving. 

* * *

The ride to his therapy appointment a few days later is awkward. He'd texted Prompto after Gladio had left the other day, telling him he understood, and it was fine, but it's _not_ fine, not completely, and he knows Prompto can tell that. And he feels like a jerk but he can't seem to let go the hurt feelings of exclusion and missing out so easily. So they talk, and they pretend Noct isn't still hurt, but Prompto quietly frets over it with his body language and Noct doesn't reassure him. 

"Prompto and Gladio are dating now," he tells Dr. Sidra once he's relaxed into her couch. 

She leans back into her chair, settling in for the session. "And how does that make you feel?" 

At that, Noct snorts, raising his eyebrows. 

She laughs. "Apologies, that was rather cliche-sounding, wasn't it? But your tone suggests it's bothering you." 

"Yeah," he admits. "They were hiding it from me. I overheard them making date plans. Gladio said they didn't wanna seem like they were rubbing it in my face, after Ignis..." 

"That seems like a reasonable assumption on their part." 

Noct sighs. "I don't need to be protected. I don't want them to treat me like I'm fragile, and tiptoe around me. And I... I don't want to talk about it, but I lost ten years. I missed so much in their lives. I don't want to be left out, and miss anymore." It's getting easier to be honest, here in this room where he can be removed from the rest of the world for an hour. He doesn't feel so stupid and confused sorting out his feelings. 

"Do you think they were deliberately leaving you out of their life by hiding their relationship?" 

"No..." 

She nods, contemplating that a moment. "Perhaps they don't realise you've been hurt by what you missed. Why not ask them to tell you about their lives during the time you lost? Tell them you're struggling with these feelings of having missed out. It might help all of you." 

"I don't think they wanna talk about it." 

"You'll never know unless you ask. And what do you have to lose?" she points out with a smile. 

Noct's mouth twists as he considers. He has asked them once—that night in Hammerhead, when he'd first escaped the Crystal and woken on Angelgard to find himself in a world of ruin. They'd stuck to the state of the world, and seemed reluctant to discuss much of themselves beyond their separation. 

But that had been when his loss was still fresh, and the world bleak. Maybe now, with him having been back for ten months, and the world improving, it would be easier. "Maybe," he says. 

"Think about it," she says. "How are you with the break up?" 

He shrugs, briefly burying his teeth into his lip as usual. "Ignis still avoids me. I miss him." 

"Do you still feel it was the right choice?" 

He swallows, wishing she hadn't asked. It was hard enough admitting it the first time. "Yeah. But I'm still not making much progress..." 

"On the contrary, Noctis—you've made tremendous progress." She leans forward, catching his gaze and holding it. "You come in here more relaxed, you make an effort to talk, you've opened up about several things I bet you believed you never would, and most importantly you've been honest with _yourself_ , even when you didn't want to be." 

"There's still—there's a lot I haven't said." 

She gives a shake of her head. "It doesn't matter. As I said the last time you were concerned about progress—it's important to go at your own pace. How long it takes or what order you go in does not matter. Only that you are making progress does. And you are, Noctis. If you need to, repeat it to yourself in your head until you believe it. Say it out loud. Say it now: I'm making progress." 

Noct breathes out slowly, wanting to believe her. To believe _it_. "I'm making progress," he says. 

She smiles. "See? That you're saying it is proof enough of your progress." 

Noct hopes so. 

* * *

Setting his pen down as Alacer leaves his office, Noct sighs and closes his eyes, propping his elbows on his desk as he buries his head in his hands. His head aches, and his eyes, and he presses his palms to them, trying to relieve the pain. He lets his shoulders slump as weariness settles into him. 

He's been holed up in here with the man for the past few hours, hammering out ideas and changes to the framework for Insomnia's new government, and that wouldn't be so bad except that Alacer previously served on the Lucian ruling council, and every time Noct looked at him he'd been thrown ten years into the past, dragged along to meetings by his dad or Ignis, staring at the stuffy-looking men and women surrounding him and wishing he could be anywhere else but there. 

Alacer hasn't aged much in ten years. He'd been one of the younger members, a newer addition to the council at the time. He's barely mid-forties now, and he looks twenty years younger than that still. Noct had spent much of their meeting trying to force himself to stay in the present, to hold together and not dissociate. He'd succeeded, but only barely. 

Now that he's alone, that's all coming undone and he's slowly falling apart. Trying to rebuild a country is so much harder than he ever thought it could be, and he's acutely aware of how much he never learned about ruling a kingdom, how much his dad never had the chance to teach him. All his usual doubts about being able to do this, about not _deserving_ this, are coming back to him, and the world's beginning to slide away from him, just a little. 

He doesn't want to dissociate. He's so tired of it, of everything, he just wants to be _better_ already. He's been in therapy a few months now, shouldn't he be further along? He feels like he hasn't made progress at all, that he's still right at the beginning, forever stuck. 

His head throbs, and Noct presses his palms harder against his eyes, willing the pain to go away. "I'm making progress," he murmurs to himself, but he still feels doubtful. He's been saying it to himself for three weeks now, but in moments like this, it's hard to see the truth in the words. 

Taking a deep breath, he tries to bring one of the grounding exercises to mind. Dr. Sidra had shown him a few more times, and he's been doing them when he feels himself slipping, but so far they haven't really helped too much. He pulls the chocobo figurine Ignis had bought him from his pocket and closes his hand firmly around it, rubbing his thumb repeatedly across the carved feathers—a worry object, Dr. Sidra had called it. 

He closes his eyes, shutting out the room around him, and tries to focus on the texture of the figurine—smooth wood, every curve and ridge sanded down and softened, soothing against his thumb. _Positive memories are a plus_ , she'd told him, but thinking about travelling throughout Lucis on Merlin treads into dangerous territory, so instead he thinks about the day he'd gotten the figurine, when he and Ignis had walked through the market. 

There's sadness, of course, because it was Ignis and he no longer has that, but he pushes that pain away and remembers instead how content he'd felt, to walk alongside Ignis and just _be_ with him. That moment of delighted surprise when he'd spotted the little white figure amongst the sea of yellow and black, and immediately thought, _That's Merlin_. 

When he opens his eyes again, he doesn't know how long it's been, but he feels calmer, memories of the past no longer looming in his mind. He's not completely out of the woods though, because the room's still a little unfocused and distant. "Five four three two one, then," he mumbles, and brings to mind the steps for that one. 

Five things he can see is first, so he looks around and picks out five things. He feels silly, naming them out loud to himself, but it's supposed to help keep him in the present and away from his thoughts, so he does it. Four things he can feel comes next, and that one's harder. He has to really concentrate to bring the sensations to mind. 

By the time he gets to one good thing about himself, he's completely immersed in the sensory game, and everything else has fallen to the wayside. It takes him awhile to come up with something, because he doesn't want anything related to being royalty, or saving Eos, or even his relationship with Ignis. "I survived the Marilith," he finally says. "And I can survive this." 

Leaning back in his chair, Noct takes stock of himself. His head still hurts, but the stress of the day has melted away enough that the world's no longer moving further from him. He's not wavering between past and present, not in danger of no longer feeling real and out of place. He feels, well... _grounded_. 

When that realisation hits, a surge of excitement briefly rushes through him. For the first time, it actually worked! He _is_ making progress. He jumps up from his chair, stumbling over his own feet but paying it no mind. All he can think about is how he has to tell Ignis, to let Ignis know that he really is getting better. 

He hurries down the hall and around the corner to Ignis' office—and his brain sends up a flag, there's something odd about the location of Ignis' office, but he's too thrilled to pay it any attention—knocking on the closed door and then throwing it open without waiting for a reply. "It worked!" he says, grinning, going up to Ignis' desk. 

Ignis looks up, startled, his brows furrowing as he frowns. "Noctis?" 

"Ignis, it worked," he repeats. "I was starting to dissociate so I did the technique and it worked, I feel okay now. I'm making progress!" 

Ignis says nothing for a long moment, his face still wrinkled up in confusion, and then something passes across it that Noct can't understand, before it smooths out into a carefully neutral expression. "Congratulations," he says, and his tone is odd—blank, and measured, and for a moment Noct doesn't understand why he's not happier, and then it dawns on him that, oh yeah, _they're broken up_. They haven't talked in two months and now he's running in here and acting as if nothing happened. Astrals, he's an idiot. 

"Thanks," he says, suddenly feeling awkward, his face hot. He stands there for a moment, wondering if he should say anything else to try and fix this embarrassing blunder, and then he catches sight of something on Ignis' desk—the coeurl figurine he'd had Prompto deliver. Some of the paint on the side has rubbed off, as if Ignis has touched or held it frequently. 

There's a lump in his throat suddenly, and he turns without another word, leaving and shutting the door behind him quietly. He goes back to his own office and retakes his seat. 

Ignis had kept the coeurl. He didn't throw it away, or break it, or toss it back at Prompto. He'd _kept_ it, and what's more, he'd put it on his desk, in easy reach, and has had it in his hands enough to start taking off paint. Noct's been rubbing at his own chocobo figurine for a couple weeks now, and the paint job is still pristine. 

It makes something deep inside him hurt, clawing at his heart painfully, and he swallows, hard, feeling like shards of glass are tearing his throat. Ignis has the coeurl figurine, he still cares enough for Noct to hold onto it, maybe still misses Noct, and Noct—Noct doesn't want things to be like this between them anymore. He _misses_ Ignis, misses him so damn much the intensity of it still overwhelms him. 

And earlier—it had just been _instinct_ to go to Ignis. Ignis has always been the first person he wants to turn to, for anything, and their screwed up relationship apparently hasn't changed that. That has to mean something. Maybe to Ignis, too, if he can ever find it in himself to forgive Noct. And if he's kept the coeurl, then maybe— 

Maybe Noct hasn't ruined things between them forever. 

* * *

"Ah, crap!" Prompto groans as he begins making his guy run in the opposite direction he'd been heading, mashing frantically at the controller button. "Spotted! Noct, buddy, you're supposed to be my real life back up here!" 

Noct stares at the television screen blankly. "Sorry," he says. He hasn't been paying attention to Prompto's game in awhile. His mind's still on Ignis, and on seeing the coeurl on his desk yesterday, and what it might mean for their chances. 

"Come on, man, don't let me down!" 

Noct says nothing, absently watching Prompto's character as he ducks down behind some crates. "I want to get back together with Ignis," he says abruptly as Prompto deems it safe enough to creep out from his hiding spot. 

Prompto's character stops as Prompto himself eases off the button. "Noct..." 

"I _know_ , Prompto, but I miss him, okay?" 

"You really hurt him," Prompto says, voice soft. On the screen, his guy begins shifting from foot to foot as Prompto remains idle. 

Noct swallows. "I know," he says, the admission not coming easy. 

"He's just now starting to be okay again." 

There's a faint disapproval in the words, but Noct ignores it. He doesn't want to hear that it's a bad idea, or be talked out of it. He just wants to _try_. If Ignis laughs in his face and walks off, at least he'll know. "I... do you think I have a chance?" 

Setting down his controller, Prompto sighs. "I don't know, dude." 

Noct looks away, gnawing at his lip for a moment. "You've spent a lot of time with him. He must have said if he hates me, or if he's still angry, or if he—he misses me," he says, tripping on the last words. 

Prompto's quiet. Noct waits, and then looks at him, hoping the desperation he feels isn't written all over his face. "I don't think you really need to me to tell you he's said all of those things, Noct." 

"Does he understand?" 

The quiet's even longer this time, and Noct sinks his teeth back into his lip, tearing at the skin as he waits for Prompto's answer. "I don't think it's me you need to talk to," he finally says. 

A familiar metallic taste hits Noct's tongue. He's drawn blood again. It worries him that Prompto's avoiding an answer. Is it because he doesn't want to violate Ignis' privacy? Or because he knows Noct won't like the answer? He licks at his lip, wiping away the blood. "Yeah," he says. He'll talk to Ignis. 

If he can ever find a chance. 

* * *

He ends up getting his chance on Gladio's birthday. The Crownsguard decide to throw him a small party of sorts—it's nothing extravagant like it would have been before the fall, just several cases of beer brought from Lestallum and some snacks that the kitchen staff threw together, along with a cake Ignis made. No celebratory decorations or presents to speak of, though someone manages to get some dance music going so it doesn't feel like an awkward work gathering. It's only the Crownsguard there, and Gladio's closest friends. 

After some contemplation earlier, Noct had decided to go. He's wary of being able to handle it, but he keeps mostly to the edges of the crowd and has no problems. A few months ago he would have gone only long enough to wish Gladio a happy birthday and then find an excuse to duck out, and probably still would have been overwhelmed. Now, though he's still upset with the reminder of the ten birthdays Gladio had without him, he's able to keep himself calm enough to shove it away for a later time. 

He chats politely with the people that approach him for conversation. He doesn't know most of them well, and would be fine left alone, but if Ignis were talking to him, he'd lecture him about cultivating relationships and keeping up with appearances, so Noct does his best. 

At one point Iris approaches him. It takes him a startled moment to remember it's her, and he shoves his hand into his pocket, curling it around his chocobo figurine. "It's good to see you here," she says with a smile as she steps up next to him, leaning against the wall. "Gladdy's been worried about you." 

Noct shrugs, looking away. "I'm fine." He wonders if Gladio's told her everything going on with him. He hopes not. 

"He thought you might not come, because of Ignis." 

At that, Noct jerks his head back towards her, feeling his face heat up. "He told you?" It's not so much his relationship with Ignis that has him embarrassed, as that it's _Iris_ , the little sister figure who's had a crush on him for half his life... it's _weird_ to have her knowing. And that he still thinks of her as fifteen probably has something to do with it as well. 

She shakes her head. "He didn't have to. When I saw the way Ignis was towards you that day, in the throne room, and the way you were towards him... I just kind of knew. He tried to hide it, but he was a mess after you disappeared. More than anyone else. I was too young to put it together back then, but seeing how frantic he was that day when you were out of it, and the way you were holding onto him when you came back to awareness... I got it." 

Noct watches as her face pinkens slightly, and wonders again if she still has a crush on him. "Yeah, well..." he says lamely. "That was before. It's different now." 

She rolls her eyes. "I doubt it. You're broken up—Gladdy _did_ tell me that—but you're obviously still crazy about each other. You've been sneaking looks at him all night, and he's kept you within hearing distance no matter where you go." 

His face grows hot again. Has he really been that obvious? And—has Ignis— 

"You should talk to him," Iris says. "I don't know what happened, but I doubt it's worth all this pain and distance." 

"Yeah. Maybe," he murmurs. 

Iris punches his shoulder, gently, and then gives him another smile. "What have you got to lose?" she says, and slips away into the crowd again. 

_What have you got to lose?_ It's the same thing Dr. Sidra had said to him a month ago, about talking to Gladio and Prompto over the ten years he'd lost. He'd been doubtful about it, but now that Iris is saying the same thing about Ignis, he's wondering if he's made things bigger than they are. Maybe it really _is_ that simple. For all of them. 

He gives it ten minutes, enough time to work up some nerve, and then goes over to Ignis, who's been standing for most of the night by the small table set up with the snacks. Noct had assumed it was because he didn't feel like socialising, but now that he thinks about it, it's odd for Ignis not to be making rounds at a party. He's _not_ particularly social, not in the way Gladio or Prompto are, but he usually treats social obligations like this as a chance to build connections. 

He knows the moment Ignis becomes aware of his presence by the way he tenses. It's subtle, and Noct doubts anyone who didn't know him well would notice, but it's definitely there. He's not sure if it's because Ignis doesn't like not knowing who's approaching, or if he somehow realises it's Noct and doesn't like _that_. 

"Gladio seems to be having a good time," Noct says, watching him carefully. 

Ignis doesn't relax upon hearing his voice—he tenses further, and looks torn between fleeing or being polite and responding. "I suppose so," he eventually says, politeness winning out. Gladio's been laughing and joking all night, his voice ringing out loudly in the room. 

"He always liked parties better than the rest of us," and really, Noct has no idea why he's talking about Gladio. Now that he's here in front of Ignis, everything he's wanted to say for the past months has flown out of his head. 

"Yes," Ignis agrees simply. 

Noct hesitates, biting at his lip. "The cake you made was good," he says a moment later, making another attempt. He just wants Ignis to stop looking so uncomfortable. Still, Ignis _has_ stayed and replied, and that gives Noct hope that he still has a chance. 

"Thank you." 

"You always were the best at baking." 

Ignis is silent for several long seconds that feel like an eternity to Noct, making hope plummet and anxiety and self-doubt surge. This was a mistake. He's doing exactly the thing he did the first time—coming over and acting as if nothing's wrong between them. He should have been upfront from the beginning, let Ignis know that he wants to fix things. 

When Ignis does finally respond, it isn't to Noct's pitiful attempts at casually chatting. "What is it you're attempting to do here, Noctis?" 

His full name. Ignis had said it the other night in his office, too. He can't remember the last time Ignis has used it. He's been Noct to his friends for a long time now. He takes a breath and tries to pretend it doesn't hurt. "I want us to talk." 

"Ah. Forgive me if I don't see the point in idle conversation with you any longer," Ignis says, and his voice is stiff, the words clipped. The hurt deepens. 

"Not like that," Noct says, and takes another breath. "I want to make things right. I—I miss you, Specs." His voice catches on the nickname, a hitch in his breath as he tries to keep back a sob. This isn't going how he hoped. He deserves it, perhaps, but he doesn't want it. He just wants to fix things, for them to have another chance. He doesn't want to spend any more of his life without Ignis. 

The silence this time is longer, enough that Noct's not sure Ignis _is_ going to respond. He's preparing himself to give up and walk away to go have a breakdown somewhere when Ignis speaks. "Noctis. This isn't something you can simply apologise for and expect everything to be fine again. While I have come to understand your reasons, and accept my own fault in them, what you did still hurt deeply. I need time." 

Time. Time implies possibilities, a chance, a glimmer of hope that things aren't ruined. Noct clings to that, and it takes a few deep breaths before he feels steady enough to answer. "I don't want to 'simply apologise,' I want to _talk_. Whenever you're ready to listen." 

A brief pause, and Noct chews on his lip as he waits, fear and anxiety spiking again. "I'll let you know," Ignis says softly, and moves away. 

Noct watches him walk away, and only once Ignis has disappeared into the throng of people, completely out of his sight, does he move himself, going in search of Gladio. He's done with this night. He doesn't know entirely what to make of his conversation with Ignis, but the brief exchange has sent him through a short roller coaster of ups and downs, and he feels fragile and splintered now, on the verge of completely breaking apart. He needs to get away. 

He pulls his chocobo figurine from his pocket, clenching a tight fist around it, and stumbles through people until he finds Gladio with Prompto—they're _dancing_ of all things, silly, uncoordinated drunken movements that would have Noct laughing if he wasn't halfway to a panic attack. "Hey," he says, tugging on Gladio's sleeve. 

Gladio halts, looking down at him, immediately noticing his white-knuckled grip on the figurine and the faster than usual breaths he's taking. "Come here," Gladio says, and drags him over to a less populated corner, Prompto following after them with a worried look on his face. When they're away, Gladio uses his large body to shield Noct from the rest of the room, and Prompto turns to face away from them, crossing his arms and presumably intimidating anyone from approaching. "Breathe, Noct," Gladio says. 

Noct does, running through one of his exercises until he calms. "I talked to Ignis." 

"Okay..." Gladio starts cautiously. 

"He needs time." 

"That's reasonable." 

Noct nods. "Yeah. I know, I just..." He takes another breath, still a little shaky, and begins running his thumb back and forth across the figurine. 

"Hey, I get it," Gladio says. "It's fine. Go get some rest. I'm glad you came." 

Noct offers him a wan smile. "Sure. Happy birthday, Gladio." 

* * *

Noct's phone buzzes, the vibrations making it rattle across the desk and towards the edge. 

He scrambles for it, plucking it up before it can plummet to its doom, and takes a moment to screw up his courage before he looks at it. It's been almost two weeks since he and Ignis talked at Gladio's party, and he's been staring at his phone every day, hoping against hope that Ignis will want to talk. He knows it's ridiculous, Ignis had said he needed time, but he can't keep his heart from leaping to his throat every time his phone goes off. 

He unlocks the phone. There's a message from Ignis. _If you still wish to talk, I'm willing to listen._

For a long moment, he can only look at the phone, hardly believing the message is actually there. He'd half-convinced himself that despite Ignis' words, he'd never get another chance. When he types a reply, his fingers shake slightly. _Now?_

_If you wish._

He gets up and makes the walk to Ignis' office on autopilot. He wants to talk, but he has no idea what to say, what he _should_ say. Ignis doesn't want a simple apology, and Noct doesn't want to give him one. It's so much more than that. He knocks on Ignis' door quietly, opening it at the soft "come in" Ignis gives. "Hey," he says quietly, taking a seat. 

Ignis dips his head politely. "Noctis." 

Still 'Noctis' then. Well, Noct didn't expect to come in here and fall into Ignis' arms and have all forgiven. He reaches into his pocket for his chocobo figurine, knowing he'll need it to help him through this conversation. He wants to be completely honest, laying everything bare for once—no more lying or hiding things or pretending he's okay when he's not. If he can be honest with Dr. Sidra about some things, he can be honest with Ignis as well. "I, um, I'm not sure how to start," he admits. 

"Whatever works best for you," Ignis says, and it's clear he doesn't intend to help Noct out the way he has in past talks. Okay. Noct didn't come in here expecting that either. 

Briefly, he considers taking the time to sort out what he needs to say in his head, think about how he wants this conversation to go—and then he ditches that entirely, and just talks. Thinking about it has never worked out in the past. He needs to just say the things that are on his mind. No thinking, only _saying_. 

"I felt pressured," he starts, and he's not expecting that to be the first words out, but he goes with it. "You told me I didn't have to talk about my appointments with you. But every time on the way home, you would ask. How were they? I know you meant well, but—fuck Specs, how was I supposed to answer that? 

"Should I have been honest? Should I have told you about all the panic attacks or dissociation I had in them? Should I have admitted I wasn't comfortable talking about anything _real_ , that I didn't trust her enough to open up yet? Did you really want to hear that I spent an hour talking about you, about Gladio, about Prompto, about fishing, about my cat?" He swallows, rubbing at the chocobo, the soothing, steady motion relaxing him enough to keep going. 

"You wanted so badly for me to go to therapy, to get better, to _try_. If I told you, you would have been upset and disappointed. You would have tried to hide it, but I would have known. And I didn't want to disappoint you, but I also didn't want to hear more accusations of not trying hard enough. I _was_ , Ignis. Making myself even just go—I would have chose to fought Ardyn a hundred times more than go in that room and try to talk. 

"But then, the other choice wasn't any better. Let you think I'm making progress so I didn't have to worry you? I was _lying_ to you, and I hated it. I felt so much guilt, it was all I could think about. And then once I started lying, I couldn't backtrack. You would have been even more upset. I had to keep lying, and I felt more and more guilt. 

"It just got to be too much. It felt like I had to go to therapy to get better for _you_ , not for me. I could have talked to you then and told you, but the pressure would have still been there. You still would have had to deal with me, and I still would have felt like a burden. It still would have been for you. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't want to end things forever, but it felt really unfair to ask you to wait when I didn't know how long it would take me to get better, or if I even would." 

He pauses, taking a few deep breaths, pressing his fingers into the carved feathers on his figurine more firmly. He feels like he could sob, but if he starts crying this chance to talk will derail and he doesn't know if he'll get another one. "It killed me to do it," he says. "I hated hurting you. I spent a lot of time wondering if I made the right choice or not. But though I'm sorry for the pain I caused you, and would gladly take that back if there was any way, I'm not sorry for the choice I made. If that makes you hate me, then—then I'll have to accept that. 

"But I can't completely regret it, because I'm making progress. There isn't pressure. I don't have to worry about you asking after my sessions, or if I've done enough in them to be worthwhile. I can go at my own pace. Dr. Sidra says that's important. I miss you, and I don't want the rest of my life to be without you by my side, but if I hadn't broken things off, I don't think I would have reached the point I'm at now." He stops, feeling drained, but knowing there's so much more to go, so much that still needs to be said. This is the most open he's ever been in his life, and he feels vulnerable and raw, but also _relieved_ in a way—it's awkward being so open about his feelings, but it's also incredibly freeing. 

Ignis leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk and taking his own deep breath before speaking. "My intention was never to place undue pressure on you," he says, "and I am deeply sorry I ever made you feel that way. I wished to be supportive, but felt helpless much of the time. Asking after your sessions was one way I believed I could, though I realise now what a poorly thought out decision it was. I did not realise the position I was putting you in, in part because I wished so desperately for you to be well that I let that desire take over and ignored any evidence to the contrary." 

"You really thought I was getting better that fast?" Noct asks quietly. 

Ignis scoffs, though it's obvious he's directing it at himself. "Quite ridiculous, isn't it? I was a fool. I let myself be blinded to the truth." 

Noct lets out a sigh, the noise shuddery. He doesn't want to hear that level of scorn in Ignis' voice. Ignis messed up, but so did he. He doesn't think there's any point in either of them blaming themselves. "You just wanted me to be better, for both of us. I didn't make it easy on you..." 

"I don't blame you," Ignis says immediately. "Mental illness is not your fault." 

"No," Noct agrees, "but that doesn't make the things I did any easier. I _used_ you, Specs. When I realised that sex with you made my dissociation go away, I deliberately started going to you and initiating things just to make myself feel better. I wasn't thinking about it, really, but that was the problem—I didn't even stop to consider how you would feel if you knew what I was doing. I didn't stop to realise how selfish and _fucked up_ it was. 

"And you forgave me so easily, but you wouldn't touch me after that, or let me touch you, so I know I hurt you badly. And then there's everything else I put on you. Depending on you to get me through all my panic attacks and dissociation, all my nightmares, all the upset about my lost time—" 

"I have never minded helping you through those." 

"I know," Noct says. "And I know if I were to have some kind of attack right here, right now, you'd still help me through it despite everything. That's just who you are. But it isn't fair to you. I should have never made you my only support, and I should have never made you my only way to get through them. And most of all, I should have talked to you more, and been honest about what was happening, because if I had maybe we wouldn't be in this mess." 

Ignis clasps his hands together, tipping his forehead against them. "If we're going down this road of self-blame," he says, "the same could be said of myself. I was not honest about how your thoughtless actions affected me. And though I fooled myself into believing that you were getting better, I believe that deep down I knew otherwise. I simply did not want to face the truth. Had I simply also made an effort to talk to you more, we equally might not be in this mess." 

"We both screwed up." 

"Indeed." 

Noct looks down at his lap, at the chocobo figurine still clutched in his hands. He and Ignis are talking, but he still doesn't know what it means for them. He doesn't know if Ignis forgives him, if they have a chance at trying again, if Ignis even _wants_ to still be with him. He's afraid to ask. He doesn't know if he wants the answer. He holds the chocobo up in one hand, tracing the contours of it with the index finger of his other hand. Noting every carved hollow, all the textures. Trying to keep himself grounded. 

On the second go round, he loses his grip, the chocobo tumbling to the floor. He mutters a curse under his breath, reaching to retrieve it. 

"What was that?" Ignis asks him, lifting his head. 

"My chocobo figurine," Noct tells him quietly, once more running his finger over it. Ignis' brow furrows, clearly confused as to why Noct would be carrying that around. Noct sighs. "It's a grounding technique. If I feel like I'm going to dissociate, I pull it out and focus on feeling it with my fingers, noting all the details about it, and run my thumb across it." 

"Does it help?" Ignis asks. His tone's curious but hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he's stepping over boundaries—or perhaps pressuring Noct again. 

"Sometimes it does," Noct says. "Sometimes it doesn't." He decides to change the subject, not willing to go in-depth about his therapy progress yet. "What made you understand my reasons?" 

To his surprise, Ignis' face darkens in a faint blush. "Prompto... made the suggestion that perhaps I could benefit from some therapy of my own. After much cursing and throwing several pillows at him, I decided his suggestion had merit." 

Noct can only blink. "You?" Ignis is even worse than he is with sharing his innermost thoughts and feelings. 

"For several sessions, yes. I did not go beyond our relationship, and how your mental illness has affected it, and to some extent, myself." 

"Huh." He really doesn't know what to say to that. 

"Noctis. I have to know—what are you hoping for here?" 

Well, now he can't avoid the answer. He curls his fingers around the chocobo, wishing he could do the other technique that had worked for him a couple of weeks ago. He feels shaky. "I want a relationship again," he forces out, "if—if you're willing to try. If you even forgive me, or don't hate me..." 

"I don't hate you," Ignis says quietly, but it's all he says. 

Noct chews on his lip. "Do I have a chance?" 

"I don't know." 

There's a lull then, as Noct struggles with what to say next. He wants more of an answer, or at least an indication of whether he'll get one, if this entire conversation is worth it to try and fix things, but he can't force Ignis into one, especially if Ignis really doesn't know the answer himself. 

He looks around the room, wishing it could somehow give him answers, and the coeurl figurine on Ignis' desk catches his eye. He sets his own figurine down in his lap, and then reaches out quietly, picking the coeurl up, running a finger across the worn spots. "You kept it," he says quietly. 

Ignis automatically reaches out for the space where it sits, knowing instantly what Noct means, and when he doesn't feel it there, a look of panic crosses his face. He tries to hide it, schooling his expression into something more neutral, but he's unable to resist patting around for it. Noct's stunned at the reaction—he can't believe this thing means so much to Ignis. 

He extends his hand again, gently grasping Ignis', ignoring the tensing up and quick jerk Ignis gives at the contact. He turns Ignis' hand over, palm up, and then places the coeurl in it. Ignis curls his fingers around it, drawing it to him. "I did," he says, his voice just as quiet as Noct's. 

"I wasn't sure if you still liked them." 

"They are majestic creatures, if dangerous." 

"Yeah." Noct smiles a little. "I could live without ever getting stung by another one of those whiskers." 

"Ah, come now, it couldn't be that bad," Ignis says, and Noct's heart gives a little jump at the teasing tone of voice. He almost sounds... fond? Noct hardly dares to think it. "You've certainly had worse. I should think a few coeurl stings matter little in the grand scheme of things." 

"Sometimes it's the little things that matter most," Noct says. 

Ignis draws in a sharp, quick breath at that. Noct can't figure out why, and then he sees Ignis start to rub his thumb across the coeurl, in the very spot that's worn away. _Oh_. Noct's throat tightens. "How can I trust that things wouldn't end up the same?" Ignis asks him, and Noct closes his eyes, grabbing hold of his chocobo once more. Knowing he'd hurt Ignis deeply is one thing. Being confronted with the evidence of it is so much worse. 

"I don't know," he says. "The same way I would have to trust you not to pressure me anymore, I guess. I can't promise I won't screw up. But I can promise I won't lie, and try to tell you when things are bothering me... I have an agreement in therapy, I don't have to talk about anything I don't want to, but I have to tell her that I don't. I think that could work for us. If I told you that something was wrong, but I didn't want to talk about it... you could help without making me talk or feel pressured. 

"I want to get better, but I need to do it on my own, for me above anyone else. I don't want to depend on you to get better. I don't want to be that burden to you. But I also need you to trust in me to do things in my own way, at my own pace, without feeling the need for a progress report every week. My track record wasn't great at first, but I _am_ making progress now. Even Dr. Sidra's told me that." He sighs. "I think we just need to communicate better, Specs." 

"That is certainly something I can agree on," Ignis murmurs. Carefully, he sets the coeurl back down in its proper spot on the desk. "Noctis... I cannot deny that I've missed you these past two months, and wished nothing more than to speak to you again and have everything be okay. However, I've also cursed your name and wanted nothing to do with you. I am uncertain where I stand on things at the moment. I need some time to think about it still. If you can give me a week, I will let you know where I am, even if it's only to say that I need more time. If that is agreeable?" 

It's not what he wants, but it's more than he hoped for, and still perhaps more than he deserves. He can't deny Ignis this, no matter how desperate he feels for an answer. "Yeah," he says softly, sliding his chocobo figurine back into his pocket. "It's agreeable." 

* * *

When Noct wakes up around a week later, it's snowing outside. He stares out at the white garden beyond his window in surprise—it's mid-April, after all, and unusual for Insomnia to get snow so late, although it _has_ happened before. And the weather has been a little off since he returned from the Crystal. Something to do with the loss of the sun, and the Starscourge, Ignis had said once. 

He sits up and watches it fall for several minutes, wondering if he can get Ignis to go out in it. They've been... talking. Here and there, nothing major, nothing important or personal. Mostly about work, or something mundane. It's still awkward at times, and there have been instances where Noct's had to back off because it's clear Ignis isn't in a mood to make an effort, but they're _talking_. It gives him cautious hope that he clutches at desperately. 

Finally he climbs out of bed and gets dressed for the outside, then heads to Ignis' office. There's nothing important on his schedule today, no meetings to put Insomnia back together or anything dire that needs his attention, and he doubts Ignis has anything pressing either. "Hey," he says once he's in front of Ignis' desk, "grab your coat and come with me. Please?" 

"Has something happened?" Ignis asks, drawing his brows together in a frown. 

"No," Noct says, "just... trust me?" It's a lot to ask, he knows, and he holds his breath while waiting for the answer, but Ignis had promised him an update today anyway, and this is as good a measure of where he stands as any. 

For a moment Ignis remains seated, and Noct's sure he's going to refuse—his stomach's already sinking in anticipation of the words—but then Ignis pushes his chair back from his desk, standing and retrieving his coat and gloves. "Lead the way," he says once he's got them on, and Noct does. 

Ignis follows behind somewhat warily, halting once they get outside, in the garden Noct's bedroom looks out over. "Are we going somewhere? This isn't the front entrance." 

"Nope, just here," Noct answers. He runs a few steps ahead, making a face at how instantly the bottoms of his pants get soaked—why does snow have to be so damn _cold_?—but he leans over and scoops up some of the wet snow, quickly packing it into a ball and flinging it at Ignis. It's a risky move when their relationship is so rocky, but Noct's willing to take the chance, remembering how much Ignis loves a good snowball fight. 

The snowball hits its target squarely, snow exploding against Ignis' chest, and Ignis stands there, shock written across his face before he suddenly raises his eyebrows. "You'd attack a blind, defenseless man?" he asks, adopting a hurt air, but Noct snorts, not fooled in the least. 

"Iggy, please. I've seen you fight. You're blind, but far from defenseless." He grins, scooping up another ball of snow and tossing it at Ignis—who dodges this time. 

"I do believe this is war," Ignis says and steps forward, bending down for some snow of his own. 

Noct's eyes widen, and he turns to run, knowing Ignis is both relentless and ruthless when it comes to snowball fights, but he only gets a few steps before the snowball pelts him hard in the back. He shrieks, quickly taking cover behind a nearby bush, and starts building up some ammo, keeping an ear out for approaching footsteps. 

Footsteps from the side, and then behind him, and he whirls, snatching up a snowball, but Ignis is already there, hitting him in the shoulder, laughing as he does. Noct lets out another cry, hating how wet it feels, but he ignores it and lobs his snowball at Ignis. He misses again, because Ignis is anticipating it, and has already moved, running away. "Get back here!" Noct shouts after him, lobbing more snowballs, but Ignis continues to run, leaving a trail of laughter in his wake. 

He knows Ignis is expecting him to give chase, so instead he takes advantage of the noise Ignis is making and creeps over to a small cluster of bushes where he hunkers down, grinning smugly to himself as he starts packing more snow. 

Half an hour later, they're both soaked through with snow but refusing to yield, and Noct's stomach aches from all the laughing he's been doing. By now he's behind a tree, completely still, watching Ignis as he stands in one spot, listening for him and turning in to a new direction every so often. 

Noct has a snowball in his hand, waiting patiently for an opportune moment, and when a too-heavy tree suddenly dumps some snow in the distance, Noct takes his chance, sprinting as quickly and quietly as he can towards Ignis. He grabs at the back of Ignis' jacket and shirt, yanking fast as he uses his other hand to shove the snowball down in the gap, laughing as Ignis lets out a very undignified shriek and begins trying to shake it out. 

He intends to bolt away, but Ignis is reaching out, grabbing whatever part of him he can manage, and before Noct can process it they're going down, falling into the snow. Ignis lands on his back, Noct on top of him, snow flying everywhere, and he laughs again. 

"Brat," Ignis says to him, and Noct smirks. 

"You love me anyway," he says cheekily. 

He's not really thinking about what he's saying until Ignis stays quiet, and he has only moments to panic and curse in his head before Ignis is speaking again, his voice much more serious than the teasing tone of moments ago. "I do," Ignis says, swallowing visibly. "No matter how much I tried not to." 

Noct leans over, touching his forehead to Ignis' as he closes his eyes. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I never wanted to hurt you so much." 

Ignis sighs out gently, his breath tickling Noct's face and making him shiver. He wraps his arms around Noct's waist, pulling him in closer. "I know," he says. "But I forgive you. I think I forgave you weeks ago. I just didn't want to admit it." 

It's Noct's turn to swallow, a tangle of emotions swelling up in him at the words he's wanted so badly to hear. He doesn't know if he truly deserves Ignis' forgiveness, but he's grateful for it just the same. "I want to kiss you," he says then, and Ignis laughs softly. 

"By all means," he says, so Noct does, pressing his mouth to Ignis', kissing him hard, the contrast of their cold lips and warm breath making him shiver pleasantly. Ignis sighs into the kiss, and Noct melts against him, relieved at how _right_ it still feels after all this time. 

When he pulls away to catch a breath, he does so reluctantly. "I love you too," Noct tells him, the first time he's ever said it. Ignis sucks in a quick breath, and Noct can see his mouth working, trying to find the right words, before he gives up and simply tightens his arms against Noct. "Let's go in before we get frostbite," Noct says then, and Ignis laughs again. 

He lets go of Noct, and they both climb to their feet, shaking off what snow they can. "I think some hot cocoa is in order," Ignis remarks, and holds out his hand in a clear invitation. Noct stares at it for a moment, then smiles and takes it. Things aren't perfect, he knows, and they'll still have a lot to talk about, a lot to work out. But they're going to do it _together_ now, and that's all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure everyone predicted the reuniting of the Ignoct, but I hope it was satisfying \o/ That long ass conversation they have where Noct speaks an entire essay-worth is because of all the comments I got expressing the desire to see them have an honest conversation. I hope it was also satisfying, I have trouble with the concepts of "Noct and Ignis" and "honest conversation" being paired together.
> 
> Only one chapter left to go, I seriously can't believe. Thank you guys for the love last chapter, and of course feel free to let me know your thoughts on this one <3
> 
> also, I'm thinking about changing my pseud name to "fayth" as that is what I go by... so if you're subscribed and you get the final chapter notification from that name, don't be confused!


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